


A Different Sort of House Call

by Hornswaggler



Category: Danny Phantom, House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Creative liberties: medicine, Crossover, Gen, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-30 22:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hornswaggler/pseuds/Hornswaggler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House's new case is a little tougher to diagnose, primarily because the patient should be, quite literally, already dead. A continuation of AnneriaWings' Lab Rat</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lab Rat](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/29984) by AnneriaWings. 



> First of all, if you're reading this...I'm sorry? This is by far the weirdest fic I've ever written. It's a bizarre crossover based on another fic and I don't understand why it got so popular on FanFiction...but it did. So why not move it here?
> 
> You don't need to read Lab Rat to understand this, but I highly recommend it since it's a wonderful story and deserves all of the views.
> 
> I have a friend helping me with the medical aspect of the thing, so hopefully it's all rather accurate. If not, sorry. I am also aware that there are some plot holes and minor things that might cause confusion, since I didn't have a beta for the first few chapters. Again...sorry.
> 
> No Phantom Planet, obviously, and the House cast is set sometime between seasons 1 and 3. Here goes nothing.

"House!"

Said doctor barely graced the call with a pause, glancing behind him before continuing his trek down the hall at the same steady pace. It wasn't anyone he was currently hiding from which meant he didn't have to exert extensive effort. The footsteps pursuing him quickened and fell into step beside the limping man, his usual weary expression in place.

"Do you ever actually stop and wait for anyone?" Wilson questioned, raising one eyebrow. House considered it briefly before shrugging.

"Nope. Especially not when I'm already late for very pressing matters in my office."

"Like what?"

"Sleep, mainly." Glancing over at his friend, he gave a melodramatic sigh. "And judging by the look on your face, you're not going to let me do that, are you?"

"Not a chance." Wilson pushed a paper into the man's free hand, quickly stepping into his path. "There's a new case, and…It's not exactly normal." House scoffed, blatantly ignoring the document as he leaned nonchalantly on his cane.

"Not normal? In this place? What has the world come to?"

"Thank you, sergeant sarcasm. Now will you just take a look at the stats?" Light blue eyes rolled before running swiftly over the list. House looked up again, eyebrows raised.

"If you're expecting me to get all teared up, I'll be disappointed," he stated, handing the paper back again. "This is a hospital, Wilson, we see deaths everyday. Just because the kid was sixteen…" He was cut off as the other man suddenly grabbed his arm, pulling him down the hallway after him.

" _Is_ ," he muttered. "He  _is_ sixteen. At least, that's what we think, he was still under when I left." Managing to reclaim his arm the other man shook it out quickly before following with a sigh.

"I suppose you're going to make me actually do work while I'm at work. If you plan on making any sense sometime today, be sure to let me know."

* * *

The room was curtained off and dimly lit, though quiet murmurs could be heard through the glass. Wilson pushed open the door, glancing inside quickly before nodding at his companion to enter. The rest of the team had already gathered; Foreman was beside the bed checking on one of the machines. Chase and Cameron stood to one side apparently in some deep discussion, though it cut short when the others entered.

"This is the kid," Wilson muttered, the door closing behind him with a soft snap. House frowned slightly, striding over to the bed and peering down at his newest charge. He had seen teenagers in weird outfits, but this one seemed beyond the normal definition of weird; it appeared to be a hazmat suit, though without the hood. White gloves and boots adorned the mostly black suit and a white D sat on the boy's chest, almost like some superhero logo. His hair was…white. Not just bleached, like he had seen before, but pure, snow white. Glancing back at the group, the doctor gestured for someone to speak. It was Foreman that stepped forward first, pushing the heart monitor back into its corner.

"He was a bit defensive when they brought him in," the man said. "Delusional, I think. He kept screaming about some lab and his parents…we had to sedate him before bringing him up."

"Wait a minute," House turned to Wilson with an uncommon look of slight confusion. "This is the kid with those stats? Were those taken after he was put under?"

"On the way, actually," Wilson told him. "Some guy called for an air-vac and we were closest. I thought it was a malfunction in the 'copter's equipment, but now that he's on some of our's…" He gestured at the machines and stepped quickly aside as House strode forward to examine them.

"You're sure these are working correctly?"

"That's the third set. It can't be coincidence that the same ones work each time…"

"His blood pressure is way up," Cameron put in. "170 over 105...far too high for a kid his age."

"That could be the whole white coat syndrome," Wilson told her. "He would've been fairly panicked when he came in, and the whole hospital atmosphere couldn't have helped."

"But it would have gone back down after you sedated him…" House frowned, eyes roving from one readout to the next. "No heart beat, no breathing rate, incredibly high blood pressure…but how can that be possible without a pulse?" He turned to Cameron, waving at the patient vaguely. "You checked his temperature, right?" The woman blinked once before grabbing a clipboard off of the table.

"Yeah, we had him hooked up, but I thought the thing was malfunctioning so Foreman just used a standard one…" She bit her lip briefly. "Seventy eight, steady." The silence was rather oppressive, only broken by the soft whining of the machines. House suddenly swore, hanging his cane on the side of the bed and leaning over to stare at the boy's face. He was pale, but not extremely so.

"What was he actually brought in for?"

"I'm not really sure," Wilson said with a slight shrug. "The guy who called him in said he found him out in the middle of a small forest in fairly bad shape. I'm not sure what he was seeing, but the kid seems almost fine now…except for the whole 'should be dead' aspect of it. I'm guessing that's why the response team brought him over. There's no obvious wounds…" Pulling a small flashlight from his pocket, House lifted one eyelid carefully and flicked on the beam, his frown deepening as the pupil immediately contracted.

"Eyes are responsive…he hasn't died on us, then. So how could a sixteen year old kid be alive with no pulse and a temperature way beyond hypothermic?" He glanced back at his team who exchanged baffled looks. "Did you get in contact with his parents?"

"We couldn't get  _his_ name, House, much less his parents," Foreman informed him, arms crossing. "From the way he was yelling though, I don't think it'll be an easy topic to broach."

"The sedative should wear off in a few hours," Chase said with a slight shrug. "He'll be groggy when he does come to, so maybe we can get some answers then. Though someone should watch him, make sure nothing…well, nothing  _else_ happens." Heads turned quickly as House's hand shot up. He shot them each an innocent look before pulling a chair to the side of the bed.

"What? I can't volunteer for anything now? What do you people take me for, some uncaring monster?" A few eyebrows raised and he simply snorted, waving at the door. "Go check on Bradson, see if the medication has kicked in yet. Only call me if someone gets worse than this kid." Wilson glanced from the patient to his 'attendant' rather warily.

"They'd…be dead, House."

"Exactly. Now leave."

* * *

It was only thirty minutes before the kid began to stir, something which disappointed House immensely. He had been planning on taking full advantage of 'watching' a sedated teenager and catch up on sorely missed sleep. As the boy groaned, however, the man was on his feet in an instant, leaning over the bed with both hands on the railing.

"Sam…?" Well, no revelations in that muttered word. The doctor rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, Rumplestiltskin, actually. Your damsel must be in the next tower over." The man was slightly tense as green eyes flickered open, still unfocused and darting around the room. Extremely bright green, really…he was half expecting the teen to leap out of bed and begin pounding on the wall. The entire thing was very anticlimactic, however. His patient put one gloved hand to his head, groaning softly as he attempted to sit up.

"When I get my hands on that Fruit-Loop, I swear…"

"Ah ah, no revenge until you sign out," House told him. "We can't go to the trouble of filling out all that paperwork. Now, first thing first; what's your name, kid?" Giving up all efforts to prop himself up, the boy fell back onto the pillow with a pained grunt, eyes shutting briefly and one hand unconsciously going to clutch his chest.

"Danny, I…" His eyes flew open again, already clear and now wide with what seemed to be suspicion. "Who the heck are you?"

"I'm the guy that controls your pain medication, so I expect we'll get along famously." He glanced at the glass door as a nurse passed. His team would be interested to know the sedative had worn off so quickly…but they were sure to have other more pressing matters at the moment. "Second question; what anime convention were you headed to?" Danny looked baffled for a moment, still eyeing the doctor warily.

"Anime convention…? Why do you…" He trailed off, glancing down at his chest. There was a sharp intake of breath, something that seemed strange for a person who wasn't actually breathing, and the patient lifted his hands to examine them quickly. "Ah, crud…"

"Right, so I'll file that under 'unintentional'," House stated, idly tapping one finger on his cane. "What are your parent's names? Wilson failed to mention why you were brought here in the first place, but we've got this other situation now, and we need to contact them."

"S-situation?" Danny stammered, pushing himself back as if attempting to get as far away from his interrogator as possible. "What situation? Where the heck am I?" He winced yet again, just enough to register with the doctor's keen mind and House frowned slightly.

"Answering questions with questions is supposed to be my job, kid," the man accused. "Stop freaking out before your blood pressure gets even higher." He paused, glancing once at the door again before shrugging slightly. "You're in Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in our very own diagnostic ward. New Jersey," he felt compelled to add as the statement received a blank look.

"New Jersey? I'm in  _New Jersey?_ I'm in a  _hospital_ in  _New Jersey?_ " So maybe this was the whole 'freaking out' thing his team had mentioned…The boy was clutching at the sheet underneath him, his head now pressed against the back of the bed as he continued to retreat from who-knows-what. "Oh no, no no no, this is  _so_ not good…"

"Look, kid, I really suggest you calm down before I have to sedate you. Again." Green eyes grew wide, though he stopped moving immediately.

"Sedate me? You had me  _sedated?_ " House shrugged, sitting in his chair once again and examining the clipboard that lay to one side.

"I didn't personally. I think that was probably Cameron, she's all about the 'sympathy' stuff. Didn't want you falling out the window or something, though it probably would've saved me a lot of trouble-"

"How long was I out?" The patient's question wasn't exactly one that had been expected and House paused before looking up with a raised eyebrow.

"How long were you out? Why would you care about that?"

"I dunno…" Danny's hand went to the back of his neck and his eyes pointedly anywhere but the doctor in front of him. "I, um…I can't say I've ever been sedated before, I was just curious." The hesitation was a little too prominent to be nothing. Storing that piece of information on his mental white board, the man glanced down at the paper he held.

"You were registered at two thirty eight, which means someone would have already been checking you over at two thirty...As it's four now, I'd guess about an hour and a half." He looked up again, leaning back in the chair with the distinctive air of nonchalance. "You do realize, of course, that this particular sedative is  _supposed_ to knock someone out for over six hours. That leads to my first and probably least interesting question; how did your body get rid of the drug so quickly? We're able to counteract it to wake people up faster, but I seriously doubt anyone would have attempted it with the resident lunatic here." He could practically see the gears turning in the kid's head, though whether it was from pondering this question himself or thinking up some excuse, he couldn't tell.

"It was made for…humans, right?" Danny finally asked quietly, wincing as if he realized too late that it was a stupid move. "I mean not for like…a dog, or a horse…" He added something under his breath that House could only hear sounding like 'stupid coast'.

"Ah, right, I had forgotten that you got an elephant tranquilizer instead," the man said dryly. "Logic comes in handy sometimes, kid. Now would you  _stop_ changing the subject?" Lack of sleep was never an overly pretty sight on House, and when that combined with something he seriously could not understand, all traces of anything that could be called sympathy vanished fully. Not that there had been much to begin with, though…"I need some answers, Danny, if that  _is_ actually your name. The quicker we find out what's up with you, the quicker you can leave and I can get back to my office to sleep."

"Hang on," the boy interjected, holding up one hand. He glanced at the white glove and seemed to wince again before continuing. "Why can't I go home  _now_? There's nothing wrong with me!"

"Number one," House held up one finger, leaning forward in his chair. "Legal issues, kid. Trust me, I'd be glad to kick out every whiney teenager that comes in here once we fix them, but apparently the government frowns on that." He scowled at the thought briefly. "Number two; you obviously don't know a thing about hospitals or it would've been rather obvious by now…" The man pointed vaguely at the various monitors packed into one corner and Danny turned to them with a slight frown.

"What do ya mean, they're just…" The sentence trailed off and green eyes grew, if possible, even wider. "Oh…oh  _crud_." That was it? Certainly not the reaction expected, House observed with a growing frown. What kid found out his heart wasn't beating and just seemed frustrated? Jotting another note on his mental white board, the doctor rested one elbow on the bed-side table and peered at his charge carefully. He didn't seem scared anymore, which was an abrupt change. Now he was almost…angry?

"And," House put in, one hand raising to get the boy's attention. "There's obviously something you're not sharing with me. What happened to your chest?" Green eyes grew suddenly wide and he stiffened considerably, staring at the doctor with what seemed to be a slight trace of fear.

"N-nothing," the patient stammered, letting his hand fall to his side again. "Nothing, I'm just…I'm sore, we had um…practice the other day and…" He trailed off as House began writing on the clipboard still held in hand, obviously not paying any attention to the hurried excuse.

 _Everybody lies,_ the man reminded himself with a frown. Well, if they couldn't figure out what was wrong with him because he refused to share crucial information, that was no fault of the hospital. When he looked up again Danny was muttering under his breath, seeming to have forgotten he had an audience.

"That  _stupid_ Fruit-Loop," the boy growled softly, eyes falling back to his bed. "I  _told him,_  didn't I? I  _told him_  this would happen. There's a  _reason_ we don't come here, didn't I tell him?" Green eyes narrowing further, he gripped his sheets, a grim determination beginning to form on his face. "Well if I go down, he goes down with me…"

"Fruit-Loop doesn't seem to be a legal name," House interrupted smoothly, nearly smirking as Danny jumped. "I need  _full_ names here, Daniel. What's your  _full_ name?" There was a slight pause as the boy seemed to consider the question, then he sighed.

"I just…I don't usually say my full name," he admitted, pointedly avoiding eye contact. "It's not exactly your typical surname, you know…"

"Well I can only laugh uproariously at it if you  _tell_ me."

"Exactly!" His gaze rising, still a little  _too_ green for House's liking (were they contacts?), Danny glared at the man for a moment before shrugging. "Phantom. Danny Phantom." There was a slight pause in which the two held a short staring contest before House scrawled the name onto the clipboard in his hand. The very slight tensing of the boy's face told him what he had originally thought, but there was no reason not to play along for now.  _Everybody lies…_

"Right. You," He jabbed a finger at the patient. "are going to stay here. I'm going to give this to the front office so they can call your parents and then we'll discuss this 'situation' in more detail. So just…stay." He stood, grabbing his cane and limping determinedly to the door. "Stay there." Danny seemed to mutter something in response, though House was now too far to catch the words. Eyes rolling, the doctor pushed open the door with his shoulder and stepped into the hallway. He paused in front of the curtained window to scan the paper in his hands again quickly. _Danny Phantom…_ the name sounded familiar, though he couldn't quite place it. Some character from a movie, maybe? It certainly wasn't the kid's name, unless all of his years mastering body language had turned out completely wrong. Snorting, he had just started back down the hall when a sharp piercing scream froze the man in his tracks. He spun around just as it died off, striding as fast as his leg would let him back to the room he had just vacated. As a nurse hurried after him he paused, one hand on the door to face her.

"Get my team," he ordered, all air of nonchalance gone. "Tell them our dead kid's woken up." Ignoring the baffled look on the woman's face House pushed his way in, flicking on the main lights. His eyes went immediately to the bed, but finding it empty the man swore quietly and scanned the rest of the room. "What part of  _stay_ don't you get, kid?" Danny had somehow crossed all the way to the window before collapsing and now lay in a clenched ball underneath the sill. One of the small tables was on its side with the lamp lying a few feet away. Abandoning his cane by the door, House crossed the room quickly and knelt at the boy's side. Danny seemed conscious, but not entirely coherent as he stared blankly at the wall.

"Not working…" the teen muttered, gloved fingers digging into his arms. "Why isn't it working…?"

"Hey, focus, kid. Breathe…" He realized a moment later that lack of breathing was one of the main reasons he was in here and quickly changed tactics. "Look here, stay with me…" The sound of the door opening made the man glance around. Cameron stood in the doorway, obviously frozen for a moment before hurrying in, the others following close behind her. "Someone get him onto the bed, get the monitors hooked up again." Foreman strode forward and picked the boy up far more gently than would seem possible, laying him back on top of the sheets and starting to plug the various machines back in.

"What was he trying to do, jump out the window?" Chase muttered, pulling the table upright again. House shrugged, leaning on the chair that had remained next to the bed.

"I wouldn't put it past him…we might need to set a guard in here in case the kid tries it again. He  _really_ doesn't want to be here and it seems he's a bit more desperate to get out than I thought."

"Wait, how would you know?" Cameron demanded as she attempted to pry the boy's hands off of his arms. "He hasn't said anything yet!"

"He woke up about ten minutes ago." The man waved one hand as if this piece of information was far from relevant. "I was trying to get his name so we could call his parents. You're always nagging me that it's standard procedure."

"But if someone has a sedative wear off almost  _four hours_ before it's supposed to…!"

"Would you two stop debating about protocol and help out here?" Foreman interrupted, turning to glare at them for a moment. Cameron opened her mouth to retort, then thought better of it, returning her concentration to keeping the boy from tearing through his suit.

"Pulse and breathing rate are the same," Chase reported, his accent becoming a bit more pronounced as it often did during fast-paced situations. "Nothing's registering…his blood-pressure has spiked to 190 over 115, temperature…dropped?" The man paused, peering at the readout closely. "Down to sixty six." A short silence fell as the team turned to stare at Chase briefly before returning to their work.

"House, there is no reason this kid shouldn't be dead," Foreman stated bluntly as he pushed the heart monitor back into its corner.

"So you  _did_ learn something in medical school, very good," House muttered. "Cameron, you got that other arm restrained yet?"

"Just barely…"

"Good enough. Right people, back up, give him some…well, I won't say breathing room, but you get the idea." Exchanging rather wary looks the team retreated to the foot of the bed as their boss moved forward to look the boy in the eyes. They were still extremely wide, flicking from side to side as if he were trying to find some escape. Any struggling had stopped as soon as his arms were strapped down and he now looked rather like a trapped mouse. If he  _had_ been breathing, House imagined that it would've been near hyperventilating. "Can you hear me, kid?" Neon green eyes snapped forward to meet light blue ones in an instant and Danny seemed to push himself back into his pillow.

"Why did you tie me down?" he asked quietly. The doctor glanced back at the others quickly with a raised eyebrow, curious to see if he had been the only one to catch the sudden switch back to sanity. Judging by their expressions, it wasn't just him.

"We found you on the floor, Daniel, next to the window-"

"Yeah, I know, but  _why_ did you tie me down?" There seemed to be a slight tremor in his voice now and House blinked before straightening with a sigh.

"Ms. Sympathetic, that's your cue," he announced, retreating to the far side of the room. Cameron shot him a glare before stepping forward.

"You were having some kind of fit, we think…your name is Daniel?"

"Danny," he muttered, still watching House warily, his hands clenched into fists.

"Right, Danny…I had to restrain you while the others got everything hooked up again. Usually when people have seizures or something similar they can end up hurting anyone who gets too close…or themselves, for that matter." She frowned, glancing back at House. "If he's got no pulse how do we tell when he's calmed down enough?" The man sighed, letting his head fall back against the wall.

"Hey kid, are you gonna end up punching anyone?"

"Not if you let me go."

"He's fine Cameron, let him go." The woman hesitated slightly before undoing the restraints on each side. Danny immediately rubbed both wrists, pulling his gloves straight again. His hands were trembling slightly and the boy stared at them for a moment as if willing them to still. "Chase, get some Tegretol." At the questioning looks House rolled his eyes. "They're the little oval ones, just go!"

"Epilepsy treatment?" Cameron asked as the younger man strode out. "You think that was epilepsy?"

"It seemed like an atonic seizure," the doctor told her, glancing quickly at Danny as he stared at them with rather wide eyes. "Explains why he fell. It might have effected some of the nerves momentarily which could have been interpreted as pain…"

"Probably a stupid question," Danny cut in, glancing quickly at the window. "But can I go now? I  _really_ have to get out of here…"

"Kid, you just had some kind of…seizure and you're trying to leave?" Foreman questioned, his arms crossing. "Even without all of the other stuff, you'd still be stuck here until we treat it." The patient winced, still gripping at his wrist as he glanced over each of the adults quickly.

"I'm  _fine_ ," he told them. "Look, I'm not…twitching or anything, right? It wasn't even as bad as some of the others-" Green eyes widened slightly as he cut off. Swallowing once, he attempted to plow on. "I'm fine, honestly, you don't have to-"

"Some of the  _others?_ " Wilson grasped the railing of the bed, speaking for the first time since they had entered. "You're saying these have happened before?" The boy bit his lip, propping himself up on his elbows as he attempted to find some answer.

"Well…not  _exactly_ like that, but…I've been shocked before, my parents…I know some inventors, so it wasn't that big of a deal."

"Just like getting bitten by a shark isn't that big of a deal, right?" At the baffled look, House sighed. "You were screaming, kid. Loud. Usually when people scream it's either because someone jumped out at them yelling 'surprise' with a cake in hand or they're in some serious pain. Now considering I'm not finding any cake in here, I'm guessing it was the latter." Danny winced slightly, looking away as the man scrutinized him carefully.

"Well…yeah, it hurt some, but…" He was definitely reaching now, grasping for any explanation that wouldn't raise more suspicions. "Look, can I just…rest for a while? It hasn't exactly been the best day and sleeping with a sedative doesn't really feel like much sleep at all…" The patient trailed off as Chase returned, a small bottle in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other. Setting the water down he shook two pills into one hand, offering them silently to the boy. Though Danny took them, he hesitated for a few seconds before swallowing the oval-shaped medicine, ignoring the water to one side. "See, I've got medicine and everything, I'll be  _fine._ " The team exchanged glances before turning to House who sighed.

"Last time we left you alone you tried to jump out the window," he reminded the boy.

"Yeah, I was, um…still a bit groggy? I mean come on, you  _sedated_ me, you didn't expect me to try and get out of this place?" His eyes narrowed slightly as if in challenge. "I'll stay here, I just need some peace for a bit. Hook up those little…alerty things, I don't care, just leave me alone." The silence stretched for another moment before House stood with a sigh, waving the others toward the door.

"Fine. You can have time to plan out your next set of excuses if you like. I'll be back in two hours, tops, and we  _are_ figuring you out." Danny managed to suppress a wince as the group trooped out, the latch clicking softly behind them.

"You're really going to leave him alone in there?" Wilson muttered, glancing back at the blocked windows. "What if he tries something again? If the medication doesn't do anything…" House shrugged, gesturing at him vaguely as the man trailed off.

"Thank you for volunteering Wilson, you'll take the first watch." Jabbing his cane at a bench to the right of the door he added "Just sit there. If you hear anything that sounds like some suicide or desperate attempts at escape go in and stop them. As for the rest of you," House spun around, starting off down the hall. "White board time. Foreman will replace Wilson in half an hour so I can listen to him nag me about how unethical I am when it comes to annoying teenagers." Wilson sighed, staring after the small group for a moment before settling himself onto the bench. It was going to be a long half hour…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the quality gets better once I get to chapters that have been beta'd. Some day I'll go back and edit them all. Some day.
> 
> Enter a certain well-dressed billionaire.

"Stupid,  _stupid,_  Fenton…" Danny paced restlessly, glad, not for the first time, that with flight came the ability to walk in near silence. He was careful not to move his upper body more than necessary, the steady throbbing threatening to explode if he twisted wrong. "They're  _looking_ for more things to pin on you and you just had to go giving it to them…" Green eyes glowing very faintly in the dark room (he had turned off the lights as soon as the doctors left) he paused to glare out the window at the night sky. The city lights were far too strong here; there were only a few stars peeking through, not near what he could see from the Ops-center.

With a sigh, the hybrid turned again, gloved hands clasped behind his back. "Why did you have to mention other shocks? They could've gone without knowing that, it's just going to be another symptom…" Glancing up at his empty bed, he frowned as the heart monitor continued its blank readout. Granted, he wasn't actually plugged into it at the moment, but it still bugged him. The only ones that actually found anything to read he had pulled over as far as their cords would allow. Knowing these people they would be alerted if he was suddenly unhooked from the thermometer or something…"Stupid heart…why don't you beat when I'm like this?" He turned his gaze to the hazmat suit and sighed softly. "Duh, Fenton, as if you need to ask that…but why  _am_ I like this?" Resuming his pacing, Danny searched through his memory of the previous day, trying to find anything that he could connect to his present situation.

 _Plasmius…_ That stupid Fruit-Loop, this was  _his_ fault! Stifling a curse he stopped again by the window, clutching at the ledge as he tried to recall the actual encounter. It hadn't actually been a fight, which was strange in itself, but he couldn't actually remember all of it…

" _Daniel?" Plasmius had seemed surprised as he approached, peering up at the young halfa who was perched on a tree branch overhead. "I had thought my equipment had been malfunctioning, it's been detecting you for hours…" He drifted up to eye-level, muscles slightly tense as if expecting an attack at any second. All that could be seen of the boy was the top of his head, white hair falling over his face. He appeared to be examining the ground below intently, barely acknowledging his rival's presence._

" _What do you want?" Danny's voice was rough and it seemed like he was fighting to get any words out at all._

" _I believe I should be the one asking that," Vlad observed, one eyebrow raising. "After all, you_ are  _on my property. Most ghosts just pass by too quick for the sensors to catch them, but you're practically asking to be caught. Losing our touch, are we?" Danny gave a rather forced laugh before subsiding into a short coughing fit, green eyes still staring down._

" _Yeah, I guess I was," he muttered. "Just asking to be caught, like always right?" He finally looked up and Vlad blinked, rather startled by the look he received. The boy's eyes were bloodshot and dim, their usual glow muted slightly. His glare was weary and his face covered in a fine layer of dirt, most likely from plowing through the forest for hours. There were smudges in the grime though as if he had hurriedly tried to wipe it away and…had he been_ crying _?_

" _Why did you come_ here _, of all places?" the older ghost questioned, his arms crossing. The boy certainly didn't seem to be a huge threat at the moment and it was strange having any encounter that didn't start with some witty banter. Danny snorted, gloved hands clutching at the branch he sat on._

" _Like you care…"_

" _I_ do _." Vlad's usual stoic expression had changed to one of slight worry. "This is the first time you've gone more than a minute without insulting me and…what's on your suit?" Green eyes blinking once before glancing down at his chest, one hand absently touching the off-color patch on the black material. He shrugged once, wincing at the motion and turning away again to stare at the tree._

" _Dunno. Just a stain…"_

" _Stains don't stay after you shift, you know that," Vlad stated. "What_ is  _it?" Danny paused for a moment, almost unwillingly looking back down at his costume. He glanced down at his glove which now bore a similar-colored spot where it had touched the mark._

" _Blood," the hybrid finally muttered. "Stupid thing broke open again…"_

Danny started slightly as he heard a door close somewhere in the hallway, cringing once again as his chest protested the sudden movement. With a quick glance at the clock he managed to relax slightly. Four forty five…he still had over an hour before they were supposed to come back. Knowing House, though, he could just barge in at any time for no apparent reason. The boy groaned, one hand going to the back of his neck warily as he tried to bring the memory back.

"Blood _?" Red eyes widened. "But your suit is intact, you would've changed back since-"_

" _It was last week, of course I changed back!" the boy snapped, pushing himself into the air. It seemed to require more effort than usual and his rival could see a slight tremor in the white-gloved hands that wasn't there before. "Are you going to spend all night interrogating me?"_

" _If that's what it takes, then yes!" Vlad grabbed Danny's shoulders attempting to look him in the eye as the young halfa turned away. "What_ happened  _to you that would be this bad after a week? You know as well as I do how quickly we heal."_

" _Let me go…"_

" _Only if you tell me, Daniel._ What happened _?" Danny's eyes flashed as he turned back, brighter than they had been the entire time._

" _That," he growled. "Is_ none  _of your concern." Vlad wasn't expecting the sudden attack and it hit him square in the chest, forcing him to release his hold as the ectoplasm ray sent him flying back a few feet. He recovered quickly and pulled himself upright. The beam had been…weak. Even when the boy was holding back he was much more powerful than that._

" _Element of surprise, I must commend you for that." He attempted to make his tone dry, nonchalant, as it always seemed to get Danny even more fired up. Answers were easier to get when he was already shouting. "Though I admit, there is a little to be desired with - Daniel?" Vlad's eyes widened as he turned back to his 'opponent' who didn't exactly seem capable of another blow. The boy had managed to lower himself to the forest floor but even that had apparently taken a good deal of effort. He was now crouched on all fours, oblivious to the various sticks and rocks digging into his hands._

_"'m fine," he gasped. If breathing were natural in this state, Vlad was sure he would have been struggling for air. "L-leave me alone…" The older ghost swooped to Danny's side, kneeling in an attempt to look him in the eyes again. He couldn't hold back an intake of breath as the familiar white rings appeared over the black suit, but didn't seem able to do more than that. They flickered out again, Danny remaining the same as his arms began trembling in their effort to keep himself upright._

" _Good Lord, Daniel, you're killing yourself," Vlad whispered. "But why wouldn't it heal…"_

_"Special…special tools…" Alright, so he hadn't actually been expecting an answer to that, but it didn't hurt. "Designed t-to disrupt healing…" Who would have that kind of technology? He knew Skulker hadn't managed it yet as Vlad refused to give him the idea. There weren't many people who knew enough about ghosts to make something that advanced. With a set scowl, the man looked up briefly and scanned the area. No matter who did it, it was only going to get worse if not treated…and there were few doctors in this area that had any idea how to deal with wounds this odd. He cursed quietly, something questioning the mental capacity of corn nuts, before grabbing Danny's shoulder in a firm grip._

" _Wh-let go-!" His protest was cut short as the ground seemed to fall out from under the two for a moment and complete darkness was thrown before their eyes. It lasted only an instant before the world came crashing back and Danny subsided into a short coughing fit. His arms finally gave way and the boy allowed himself to fall with a heavy grunt onto the grass. "What the…what_ was  _that?"_

" _Teleportation, Daniel, one of the few skills you haven't come across yet…"_

Vlad had teleported him…somewhere before he fully blacked out. He wasn't sure if the older halfa had ever actually said where they were. What was the point of that though? His hand moved from his neck to his temple, green eyes closing briefly in an attempt to concentrate. Vlad had been the one to call the hospital, he knew that…

_A bright light forced Danny to shut his eyes, one hand going to his face. Plasmius was gone, replaced by the always-suited Vlad Masters who was currently fishing a cell phone out of one pocket. The boy groaned, attempting to sit up before a wave of pain from his chest forced him back down again. Everything seemed…blurrier. Almost darker…Blast it, he was passing out, wasn't he?_

" _I need paramedics." Vlad's voice was able to change so easily, it was aggravating. "I'm in the park, southwest side of town - no,_ I'm  _fine, I found this boy…"_

The halfa frowned, green eyes roving the night sky as he attempted to remember past that. Apparently that had been the point he had actually fallen unconscious.

"That  _idiot,_ " Danny whispered, both hands now clutching at the windowsill again. "He  _knows_ why I can't go to a hospital…the same reasons  _he_ can't go, why didn't he realize…?" Tentatively the hybrid reached out for the sliver of warmth that lay in his chest, the one thing still linking him to his human side. It was there, he could tell. It seemed to be waiting, as always, for the slight push that would allow it to spread and be replaced by the section of cold that was his ghost half. The trigger didn't respond as he tensed slightly, an automatic preparation for his shift. As the boy mentally prodded it, however, a sudden flash of pain forced him to draw back again quickly. It seemed to come from the warmth, sweeping up his body as his transformation did. The initial pain wasn't too extreme, but it aggravated his chest even more and the wound protested  _very_ sharply. With a quickly stifled gasp he hunched over, half expecting the shock that had come earlier. It failed to make an appearance, leaving Danny slightly shaken but still upright.

 _What_ was  _that…?_ His head now ached as if he had taken one of the all-too-common crashes into concrete and he crossed the room again to sink onto his bed. The heart monitor to his left was persistently whining, that one-toned sound that usually alerted one to clinical death. Gloved hands ran over his face as he attempted to get coherent thought past the headache he now sported and he groaned. Usually any encounter with Plasmius left him without his powers for some time…but he was still ghost, that much was obvious. He was fairly normal as a human, other than the persistent cold (Sam had guessed it came from the addition of his ice powers; it hadn't been  _this_ cold before that). There had to be some way he could get out of this place. Even if he could go back to his human side it wouldn't do a whole lot. House had already seen this form, so if he suddenly looked normal and regained his vitals it would raise more suspicions that it would quiet. His best bet would be to just fly out of the place and let them wonder…but apparently that wasn't possible at the moment. He didn't even know if he could make it to the edge of whatever town this place was in, let alone home…and did he even want to  _go_ home…?

"Nothing so far…" Danny froze, grateful once again for his amplified hearing. It sounded like one of the doctors…probably the one who seemed to actually get along with House. Wilson, was it? "I thought I heard him moving stuff at one point, but that could've just been normal shifting around."

"Right, well…House is expecting you, but Cuddy told him to let you go if you have any patients to check up on." Foreman. That guy's voice was nearly unmistakable.

"We haven't gotten any serious cases lately," the other man muttered. Apparently they didn't want him to know they were out there. The boy almost laughed at the thought, leaning back on the pillow. Ghost powers  _did_ come in handy sometimes, even when the majority of them were out of commission. "Honestly, I'd rather figure this kid out first…" Foreman grunted in what seemed to be agreement and Danny could hear light footsteps going down the hall again. So they had set a full-time guard on him, had they? Apparently House was taking this a bit more seriously that he let on. Swinging his legs onto the bed carefully, the halfa sighed. Why couldn't he change back…?

* * *

Wilson knocked lightly before pushing the door open, his eyes taking in the room's occupants before sliding in and settling onto one of the many chairs.

"You're late," House informed him, idly tapping the back of the marker on the whiteboard.

"You're the one who set my schedule," he retorted, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "Be glad I'm here in the first place, I'm not even  _part_ of this team…what've you got so far?"

"I had to eliminate the stupidity before we even got started so there wouldn't be any wasted breath yelling at someone for thinking it up…" The man pointed at the board where a few options were already crossed out. "Hypothermia would explain the cold, but he isn't showing one thing other than that that's related. Someone," Here he jabbed the maker at Chase who rolled his eyes. "suggested that it might be a failed attempt at hibernation. However, I'm guessing that any failed attempts wouldn't be nice enough to leave the victim alive, which Danny obviously is."

"That's the main issue, isn't it?" Cameron muttered, staring at the list with a frown. "This kid shouldn't be alive. We can explain the symptoms away, but the biggest thing is the  _lack_ of one…if death can be considered a symptom, anyway."

"That and the fact that some of them just don't match," Chase pointed out. "He has high blood pressure but no trace of anything that could be pumping the blood. I don't know how that's even remotely possible."

"It's not," their boss told them. " Which is what makes this case so  _fun._ " He smirked slightly at their exasperated faces, turning back to his board. "The seizures can be explained easy enough. If he's got epilepsy and just hasn't got it treated before it wouldn't be that big of a shock to the kid to suddenly collapse. The medication should prevent another -"

"Unless it's  _not_ epilepsy." And Cameron was usually the one to jump on possible cures…"What if it's just another symptom?"

"Well I don't think there's much of a chance of getting Danny to tell us his full medical history," Wilson pointed out. "I mean, you ask the kid one question and it's like he's suddenly paralyzed before going off on some-"

"Paralyzed." House got his customary blank look for a moment, eyes narrowing as he considered the word. "Did you check his blood for any sort of drugs yet?" Three sets of eyebrows were raised at him and Chase actually laughed.

"House, the kid just got here," he said. "We've been a bit too concerned by the fact that he should be keeling over any second to wonder if he's been injected with anything."

"Well now we  _are_ wondering." The man jabbed his marker at each doctor as he spoke. "Chase, you don't seem extremely intimidating. Slip in and take a blood sample and put it through every test you can think of. Then think of the rest of them. He might have some weird reaction to what's normally a strong anesthetic. Cameron, you and Foreman can start trying to get some answers out of him. He doesn't seem  _too_ scared of you. His actual name would be a good start."

"I thought we got his name," Wilson muttered, and it was House's turn to roll his eyes.

"Everybody lies, Wilson, how many times do I have to remind you? He gave us a name, but it's certainly not his…I know I've heard it before, I just can't place it. That will be your job." Shoving the clipboard into his friend's hands, House began limping quickly to the door. "Look up that name, follow any leads you can get on it. There's got to be some reason it's the first thing he thought of."

"And where does that leave you?" Glancing over his shoulder, the diagnostician simply smirked.

"I promised the kid  _I_ wouldn't be in there for another hour and a half. I plan on doing some very strenuous and important tasks in my office."

"You're going to sleep, aren't you?"

"Bingo."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I remember, we have still not reached the point of beta-ing. It will come soon, I promise. In the meantime...chapter 3.

 

"Why can't I just keep this on?"

Cameron lifted her eyes to the ceiling briefly, a silent prayer for patience running through her head.

"It's standard protocol, Danny. Normally all of this is done right when you get in, but considering you were sedated and then came across your…condition," She nodded at the monitors and the boy glared at them accusingly for a moment, "it wasn't exactly the highest priority." Danny blinked, holding the hospital gown as if it were some dangerous snake.

"Can't you do all the stuff with what I have now?" He was nearly begging it seemed, and the woman sighed. Teenagers…

"Technically yes, but it's much easier if you have something looser. If we need to do something quickly your…suit would hinder most procedures. Now come on, just put it on. I'll wait outside and then Chase can draw your blood-"

"He's doing  _what?_ "

"Just a small blood sample, we have to check it for diseases, bacteria…" She trailed off, arms crossing as the patient's expression turned to one of near terror. "Is that a problem?" He blinked a few times before attempting to shake his head.

"No, I-well not really, but…" Danny swallowed, green eyes glancing away. "I, uh…I don't like needles. At all." Cameron allowed a small chuckle.

"I don't think many of us do. Unfortunately, we have to use them a lot here. Chase is good, he'll be quick." She retreated to the door, motioning to Foreman, who had been silent for the past ten minutes, with one hand. "Now get changed, call us when you're ready." The doctor could feel his eyes following her as she exited and the smile fell off of her face as soon as the door snapped closed.

"That much effort just to get a gown on?" Foreman muttered with a half-hearted grin, sitting on the bench beside the door.

"Yeah, I guess…the kid really doesn't want to take that suit off. I'm surprised, it doesn't exactly look comfortable." The man shrugged as she sat next to him..

"To each his own. He doesn't seem that enthused about the blood sample." Cameron's frown deepened and she glanced at the door.

"It's not just because of needles," she mused. "I could see it on his face, he's worried about what we'll find when we test it."

"Drugs, you think?"

"Maybe…call me sappy, but Danny doesn't seem like the type to do drugs, he seems like a reasonably good kid."

"He's been lying through his teeth this entire time, you realize that right?"

"Well of course he's lying; he's scared." Arms crossed, she let her eyes fall shut for a moment. "He's just a kid, Foreman. Even at - what did he say he was, sixteen? - they're still far from maturity. Despite the tough-guy act, he's still a kid who woke up in a hospital and was told he should be dead. Wouldn't you be a bit on edge?" Cameron sighed lightly, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Besides, if he  _is_ doing something he shouldn't he wouldn't want to tell us about it. It's instinct for high-school kids to lie. He might just have…more practice than most." Foreman nodded, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head.

"It's a pity, really. They throw their lives away with that stuff, and it only-" A sudden rap on the door cut him off and the boy's white-haired head stuck through the door.

"Hey, I got it on," he muttered rather wearily. "Can we just get this over with then?" The two doctors exchanged glances and they stood. Foreman glanced around, motioning quickly to Chase who had been waiting down the hall. Danny strode quickly back to the bed, sitting down again with a barely contained wince. It didn't go unnoticed, and Cameron frowned slightly as she came around the side of the bed to face him. He seemed wary, pointedly avoiding her eyes and keeping his hands clenched on the mattress. As the woman caught sight of them she barely stifled a sigh.

"Danny…why did you keep your gloves on?" Green eyes snapped up to meet hers before darting back to the wall again.

"I never take them off," he muttered. "They have…sentimental value." Foreman didn't bother restraining an eye roll as he joined them, sinking into the bedside chair.

"We're not going to burn everything, kid," he assured the patient. "You'll get them back, but we need you to have  _just_ hospital-issued clothes while you're here. Sanitation reasons, mainly. Now c'mon, hand 'em over." The boy stared at Foreman, a hint of defiance sparking in his eyes before he sighed, looking back down at the white material with some apprehension. Wordlessly, Danny pulled the right-hand one off, setting it on the bed next to him. He paused briefly, the now bare hand gripping his wrist for a moment before he tugged the other glove off with a grimace. Cameron barely restrained a gasp and Foreman's eyes widened. The boy sighed, staring down at the bed sheet wearily.

"And that's another reason I don't take them off…"

His right hand was normal enough; a little pale, though that could just be due to the lack of sunlight. The left, however, was nearly black and scarring covered the entirety of its front. The wounds didn't look all that old; though the outer edges weren't as bad, there was a circular mark on the bottom of his palm that was still bright red as if it had gotten there only yesterday.

"Wh-what happened?" Cameron finally asked, taking the patient's wrist and examining the scars intently. Danny seemed to scowl at this for a brief moment before he shrugged almost nonchalantly.

"Electrocution burn," he stated. "I told you, I know some inventors…"

"These are the kinds of things we  _need_ to know about, Danny," the man told him, leaning forward in his chair. "This could completely change a differential, if you've been this badly shocked…"

"It's not a big deal!" Green eyes narrowed slightly and he pulled his hand back out of the doctor's grasp. "I got it taken care of when it happened, it's not like - not like the thing killed me or anything." There was a short staring match as the teenager gave them an openly challenging look and they watched him closely for any signs of lying. After a moment Foreman stood.

"I'm going to tell House about this," he announced, glancing at Chase who had been watching the interaction wide-eyed with a prepared syringe in hand. "Might give him some epiphany or something…Get those results as soon as you can, Chase, we'll need them pretty quick." The man strode out leaving the room silent for a moment before the Australian doctor stepped up to the bedside.

"Right, so if you could give me your right arm…"

Cameron sat back as Chase drew the blood, still frowning slightly. This kid was strange, there was no doubt about it. It wasn't just his medical stats that she puzzled over now; even though he answered all the questions - to an extent - they had learned very little about him. When she and Foreman had come in, it had been simple questions at first. He had stuck to the name, at least, claiming he was Daniel Phantom. She had to agree that it  _was_ a strange last name…Apparently the boy was sixteen, which was perfectly believable. After that, however, the answers got extremely vague. When asked where he lived, he said Illinois and refused to specify. When Foreman asked if he did much in the way of athletics, he had simply replied 'Sometimes. Depends on the day.' They had discovered that bringing up his parents was a surefire way of getting the boy to clam up, though. He had been asked what they did for a living and Danny seemed to freeze for a few seconds before just telling them that they were inventors. After that, it had been next to impossible to get him to say much of anything.

 _Whatever else he lied about though,_ Cameron mused to herself,  _he certainly doesn't like needles._ The teenager had his eyes squeezed shut as Chase rubbed down the spot where the vein lay. Apparently even the knowledge that he was going to be stuck with the thing got Danny jittery. His face didn't seem to be one of fear, however. It was almost like he was concentrating on something… _very_ intently. Probably imagining he was in a modeling agency or something.

"That's you done then." Chase stepped back again, capping the syringe and sticking a small bandage over the puncture. The boy relaxed visibly, though his eyes didn't open for another moment and they quickly darted over to the doctor, eying the sample of blood rather warily. He seemed even more tired than he had been before, which was rather odd. Stress, probably. "I'll get this off to the lab and we should have the results quick enough so even House can't complain about it." He gave a small wave as he exited and Danny turned to Cameron again, neon green eyes narrowing slightly.

"So are you done with the interrogation?" he asked. His arms twitched as if he had been about to fold them across his chest, but the patient seemed to reject the idea an instant later. "I'm sure your boss wants to come in and tell me I'm a liar personally, why go through the middle-man?" The woman sighed lightly. There was no way she had the patience to deal with a grumpy teenager alone today…

"I'll tell him you're ready to talk then," she said, straightening her coat. "And we'll see what Wilson came up with on your family history. Shouldn't take too long, so please…just stay put this time." She paused once as she reached the door, glancing back at Danny with a slight frown before stepping outside. As the latch shut behind her with a click, Cameon peered once down at the current 'guard', a young nurse who House had apparently wrangled into helping. Running one hand over her face, the doctor strode off down the hallway toward the elevator.

"'It's a good job,' they said. 'You'll get lots of experience'…yeah, experience dealing with a bunch of whackos."

* * *

Five minutes with it, and he already hated the thing.

Danny cringed as he plucked at the hospital gown, glancing over at the large plastic bag with his stuff folded inside. Three years at this and he had never had to take off the haz-mat suit. It was a part of Phantom as much as the white hair; there should be  _no_ reason to take it off. The boy groaned softly, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. They had shown him how to raise and lower the bed's upper half, something he had taken advantage of very quickly. Paranoia didn't allow him to sleep lying fully horizontal. At home he even had a rather sizable stack of pillows. It wasn't the most comfortable, but if he were suddenly woken by something (most often the distinct chill that he felt when a ghost wandered too close) he preferred to be able to see around the room immediately rather than flail about in the covers for a while.

Stupid Plasmius…stupid heart, stupid burn…Green eyes narrowed as he shot an accusing glare down at his left hand. The scars still freaked him out considerably. He hadn't known he even  _had_ those scars until his glove had been yanked off by the hooked tail of some nuisance of a ghost. Sam, of course, had freaked. Tucker seemed to think they looked 'pretty awesome man, you gotta admit', but Danny had made even more of an effort to keep the white gloves on afterwards. He was lucky the markings didn't show in his human form - they might raise a few too many questions if they did. It seemed strange to him that the initial wound - the raw, bright red circle where the initial jolt of electricity had hit - hadn't healed after three years. The hybrid guessed that anything he got like that now would be healed within a day and vanished after two. Although…in essence, it  _had_ healed. It just wouldn't  _look_ like it. There was absolutely no extra sensitivity where the mark was, and he never had any problems moving the hand just as his right did. It seemed like it was just a reminder, a visible sign of the accident that had thrown his life completely out of the definition of 'normal.' He barely restrained a curse, his right hand going to his forehead as his eyes closed.

"I'm sick of this," the boy whispered to himself. " _Sick_ of it, I just need to get out of here…" There was no telling what state Amity Park was in with him gone for three days - seven days, if he were to count the time he had been knocked out at home.

Alright, so the ghosts that  _did_ show up that regularly were never much of a threat, Sam and Tucker could take care of them fairly easily. If someone else came though, someone he needed to deal with…it would be his fault if something happened. It's his fault he was caught and brought here, even if Plasmius was the one he was stubbornly blaming. Green eyes periodically flicked to the door, keeping a close watch to make sure House didn't suddenly barge in unexpectedly. " _Stupid…_ why did you even go that far out of town? You  _knew_ that was his property, how he would react…" His hand fell back down to his side as Danny sighed heavily. There was no telling how long it would be until he could get out of there…with his powers seemingly shorted out -something he was now realizing was similar to the incident with the shape shifter - he couldn't go anywhere unless he planned on walking.  _New Jersey?_ It was a bit of a stretch to hitchhike.

The sound of footsteps in the hall jolted him out of his brooding and Danny raised his head slightly to peer at the door. Nothing left now but to just tread carefully and hope his alias held up long enough to regain some energy. It wasn't really a lie. After all, in the Ghost Zone he considered his last name Phantom. Out in the Real World, however…

"Really, kid?" House didn't waste any time on greetings, limping into the room quickly and letting a folder fall onto the bedside table. His blue eyes were almost amused, but he was hiding it well. Foreman and Cameron followed, closing the door behind them and standing behind their boss like some kind of honor guard. Chase was apparently still in the lab, and he had no idea what had happened to Wilson. It seemed like the other man had another job here and House had somehow pulled him into this case. Shaking his head quickly to get himself focused, Danny managed to put on a defiant look.

"Really what?" he countered. The boy attempted to sit up, but a throb in his chest made him give the idea up quickly. House scoffed, gesturing to the folder.

"Wilson looked up your name," he informed his patient. "Took a while to find anything of relevance, but then he came across a newspaper from Illinois." Opening the pile of papers, he flipped through them quickly and pulled out a printed copy of Danny could instantly recognize as his town's one slightly credible newspaper. The doctor flipped to the second page and turned it to show the room. "'Debated Hero Danny Phantom Drives off Swarm of Rampant Technology'…" He turned to another article, keen eyes still locked on the boy to gauge his reaction. "'Ghost Teen Defeats Hoard of Ectoplasmic Ferrets'…" The man glanced down at the writing and his eyes widened in what was obviously mock surprise. "And the most recent here is an interesting one, 'Danny Phantom Not Seen for One Week Straight'. So then," House took a seat in the chair that had been sitting by the boy's bed since he arrived. "I'll start off with a few rather simple questions. What is your name? Your  _real_ name this time; I don't want to read a bunch of ghost stories from some psycho town, I want to get you cured and get you out of here."

"I  _told_ you my name," Danny said in a near growl. It wouldn't help to make this guy extremely annoyed, but that didn't mean he couldn't bug him a bit. "It's your own fault if you don't believe me. I'm Danny Phantom, alright? I'm not going to lie to you just to pretend I'm telling the truth."

"Your name isn't in the database. Anywhere." House leaned forward, one finger idly tapping at his cane. "So either you don't exist – other than in the National Enquirer – or you've avoided any sort of government forms your entire life."

"Maybe I have," he shot back. "How do you know? Not my fault if paranoia runs in the family, alright?"

"So what, you're the kind to worry that they'll give your information to aliens? Wait, no," He glanced down at the stack of papers in his hands. "Ghosts, of course." Danny snorted, his hands folding over his stomach.

"You could say that," he muttered. "You know those ghosts, all the things they could do with our social security numbers." House rolled his eyes, letting himself lean back again.

"Would you look at this!" he called over to the other two who were watching the exchange with some amusement. "We've got one who can almost match my wit.  _Almost,_ " he added with a slight smirk, glancing back at the fuming boy. "What, you have practice with witty banter or something?"

"Pretty much on a daily basis." Danny had to restrain a smirk himself. This was the part where he could tell the doctors nearly anything and they would simply write it off as him being difficult on purpose. "All those bad-guys I have to fight sure enjoy some banter before I kick them to next week."

"Right, modern day superhero in disguise, aren't you?"

"You got that right." There was a brief staring contest between the patient and his doctor before House turned to Cameron, motioning for her to hand him the clipboard she still held. Blue eyes glanced over it quickly and then he looked back at the boy glaring at him on the bed.

"A few simple questions," the man said. "Just answer them, no attempts at humor between, alright?"

"…Fine."

"Your name?"

"Danny Phantom."

"Age?"

"Sixteen."

"Where do you live?"

"Illinois."

"Job?"

"I don't have one."

"Siblings?"

"A sister."

"Her name?"

"Jasmine." House pulled out a pen and scribbled something on the paper while Danny frowned at him. "What was the point of that? I've answered all those questions already, they're on that sheet."

"Just seeing if you stick to your story," the man explained rather nonchalantly. "Plus it proves you don't have anything  _medically_  wrong with your head if you can answer that quickly…at least when it comes to brain function. And," He held up one finger as Danny seemed about to retort, "It determined that you either practiced the story extensively or you just happen to be an excellent liar."

"Or," the boy snapped. "I could be telling the truth. Ever cross your mind?" Granted, he  _was_ excellent at lying; keeping a big secret like his for two years, a guy kinda had to be. It figured that the first time he told the truth - other than his name, which was a bizarre half-truth - no one would believe it.

"You've failed to tell us anything that's turned out to be important," House pointed out. "The seizures could be epilepsy or even as severe as a brief stroke. The electrocution might have aggravated something you already had and it just took a few days for the symptoms to show up."

"A few days?" Green eyes narrowed, but more in confusion than annoyance this time. "What do you mean a few days?"  _That thing was two years ago…as of last month._ He bit back a gasp as House pulled his left arm over to examine, the boy's chest protesting at the sudden movement.

"The burn mark there," the doctor said, pointing to the red ellipse on the palm. "Can't be more than a few weeks old. I'm rather surprised the rest scarred that quickly, but some people's bodies just have quick defenses. Looks like the majority of it closed up fast, but the initial entrance wound was aggravated, maybe accidentally broken open again." There was a short silence as Danny jerked his arm back, his right hand idly rubbing his wrist as he glared at the man. His oppressor didn't seem to be paying all that much attention, however, and had shot a glance back at Cameron and Foreman. "See, I'm good at this basic clinic stuff too. The way Cuddy goes at it, you'd think I insult every patient's mother as soon as they walk in."

"That pretty much sums it up," the woman muttered, and Foreman grinned slightly. Their boss turned back to the hybrid, now leaning on his cane.

"Right, so while I'm here are there any other rather unimportant things you'd like to share with us? Had any recent heart attacks, lighting strike you, get every bone in your body broken?"

 _Unless you count getting thrown into asphalt from seventy feet up…_ "Nope, you've got it all. If not, just check my medical records. I'm sure you can find them eventually. Probably on display in the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused bathroom with a sign on the door saying "Beware of the Leopard'." He resisted a smirk as House's usual apathetic expression slipped briefly and his blue eyes narrowed. The doctor simply shrugged, however, and began peering at his cane as if it held every answer he was searching for.

"When was that shock, then?" Danny paused for a moment, considering the best answer. Telling them two years ago wouldn't do him much good, so he figured playing along with the evaluation could work.

"About a month ago."

"Did you go to a hospital to get it treated?" The boy gave a rather forced laugh.

"Please, with my family? Hospitals are never the first option. My - my sister fixed me up."

"And what's her name?"

"Jasmine."

"Impressive, no slips yet. It's a-" The man cut off as the door opened, turning to raise one eyebrow at the intruder. Chase paused before holding up a few papers.

"Sorry, but the first results came back. Thought you might want to take a look at them." House sighed rather melodramatically, getting to his feet and limping to the door.

"Right; Foreman, head over to my office, we'll be there in a minute or two. Cameron, get an electric blanket and set it up before you come. Get the whole gang together before we go over everything." He paused a moment before adding almost as an afterthought "And someone get Wilson. He seems to have inserted himself into this case." The group exited quickly, leaving the room silent. Danny had to blink once before he realized that he was alone again and he let his head fall back with a grunt.

 _Blanket? What do they plan on doing with that?_ Green eyes closed and he ran one hand absentmindedly through his hair. They had his blood test results…or at least some of them. He had no clue how many House was having them do, but he was sure at least one would pick up something weird about his blood. At least it had actually been  _blood_ rather than the ectoplasm that replaced it in ghost form. It had been a rather hard idea to process when he realized just how little energy he had.

Normally shifting just one limb was an easy task. It had taken a while to master and had never come in real use until now…but this time changing his arm briefly human had taken as much effort as making the Ops Center invisible for any length of time. It had only been a few seconds, from when the needle was put in to when he pulled it out again, but it was nearly impossible to keep it from shifting back halfway through.

The weakness did explain why his powers weren't working properly. It took energy, he knew, to do anything. His Wail was always the most tiring and things like the transformation were just like having to jump onto something as tall as a park bench; they didn't even throw off a conversation. It proved just how weak he really was, if his body didn't have enough energy to shift even when he fell unconscious.

"This is just great," he muttered, "Stuck in a crazy hospital with some crazy doctor who refuses to believe the truth even when I'm actually  _telling_ the truth. How am I supposed to get out of here if I can't even shift? There's no way flying that far is plausible…" The halfa fell silent as Cameron entered again, a large off-white blanket folded over one arm. She plugged in the cord dangling from one end and tossed the blanket over the rest of the bed's covers. "What's this for?"

"We're trying to get your temperature up," the woman told him. "Whether you show any symptoms or not, hypothermia is  _not_ healthy." As Danny attempted to push the layers down slightly she raised one eyebrow and tugged them back up. "Look Danny, I realize my boss is a jerk, but he's an excellent doctor. We're trying to  _help_ you so you can go home. Making things difficult with House isn't going to get anyone far." Cameron flipped the switch on the blanket, turning the dial quickly before she straightened again. "Now I have to get to the differential before he decides to chew my head off, so please…just stay here. Don't do anything stupid or we'll have to have someone watching you non-stop, and I don't think any of us want that." She strode back out the door, letting it close behind her with a distinct snap. The room fell silent again and Danny sighed as he let his eyes fall shut.  _Stupid hospital, stupid doctors…_ He stuck one arm under the heavy blanket, carefully propping it up to keep it from pressing on his chest. If he could just do  _anything_ with his powers, he'd be out of this place in an instant…

"Well, they  _are_ efficient, aren't they? Only a few hours here and they've already found five possible diseases." A rather low voice in the far corner of the room jolted the halfa out of his thoughts and neon green eyes shot open again, quickly scanning the area. "It's lucky, really, that they aren't learned in anything paranormal or some things would have been obvious within minutes."

 _Great,_ Danny growled to himself as his hands clenched automatically into fists.  _Let's just add insult to injury_


	4. Chapter 4

"He's definitely got some bacteria in there," Chase stated as the doctors all hunched over the microscope. House, of course, had taken control of the device quickly and was now periodically changing the lenses. "Some infection, I would guess."

"Brilliant, Chase," the older man grunted as he twirled a knob, blue eyes narrowing. "Wish I had thought of that. We never get infections making people sick." His sarcasm was met with an eye roll from the team, as usual, before he straightened suddenly and looked over at the Australian man. "What's the green, then? Dyes are mainly for tissues, you know that right?"

"Green? I didn't see anything other than the bacteria-"

"Look again, then, Mr. Perceptive." House stepped back, motioning toward the eye piece. "There's something that catches the light differently…" Chase blinked before looking, adjusting the lens slightly as he did so. The room fell silent for a moment, Cameron and Foreman exchanging a rather weary glance. They had spent maybe two minutes in the normal 'white board room' before House had insisted he see the blood sample for himself.

"What  _is_ that?" Chase finally pulled away with a frown. "It's like some weird discoloring…"

"No idea, find out." The diagnostician winced briefly as he sat on one of the many lab stools, automatically reaching into his pocket for the bottle of pain-reliever. "But first we need to act like we're doing something to fix this kid or Cuddy will have my head."

"If it's just an infection we can start him on antibiotics," Wilson suggested. As four sets of eyes turned to him, he shrugged. "Or  _you_ can start him on antibiotics. Your case, I'm just here because it's interesting."

"You're starting to sound like me," House muttered, shaking a few pills into his hand and swallowing them quickly. "Let's act all smart here for a minute, though. What infection would affect the heart and lungs  _and_  make his temperature plummet?"

"Well the symptoms don't  _all_ match, but…" Cameron glanced around quickly before continuing. "It could be a staph infection. If his burn was open for any length of time it could've managed to get into the bloodstream. Depending on how long he's had it, it might've gotten to his heart."

"If it's too far into the heart, it can stop it," Foreman pointed out. "It wouldn't explain why he's still alive, but it might solve a couple of the symptoms."

"Then where's the fever?" House watched the far wall with some interest, blue eyes distant. "If it's just staph, there should be a fever." After a short silence, he shrugged. "It's not like it'll kill the kid. Foreman, get the antibiotics hooked up. Chase," The young man looked up wearily as his boss pointed at him, "Test the blood for staph after you figure out what that green stuff is." The younger doctor seemed to repress a groan.

"Am I going to be in the lab all day, then?"

"If you don't get on it you certainly will be."

* * *

"What are  _you_ doing here?"

"My dear boy, you think I'd just ship you off to some hospital and not make sure they're competent?"

"You'd do that in an instant, actually." The older halfa chuckled as Danny's eyes narrowed further, crossing the room to stand at the foot of the bed.

"Granted, but under normal circumstances you would have been halfway home by now. For now I have to be sure this team is actually making progress."

"Progress with what?" the boy snapped. "I'm fine! All that stuff they keep asking me about is  _normal_ for me, you know that."

"The lack of a pulse and breathing is perfectly fine." Vlad waved one hand impatiently as if this were old news. "Your temperature, however, is not." Danny blinked once, glancing over at the readout with a frown.

"How would you know-"

"I've been studying you since I discovered your powers, Daniel." Again, he seemed nonchalant about the entire thing like it was of very little concern. "Your core was warm for a ghost at first, but after that stupid plant nearly destroyed my town…" The man paused, scowling at the thought of the repair bills, "It lowered to a considerably cooler average of seventy four." There was a short silence before Danny shook his head in apparent wonder.

"It won't be the last time I'll say this, but you are one  _seriously_ crazed Fruit-Loop. You know my  _body temperature?_ How would-"

"You'd be surprised what sorts of equipment one can buy, but that isn't the point." His arms crossed and red eyes narrowed slightly. "I originally was concerned about whatever wound you claim wouldn't close, but apparently it's more than that. Seventy eight degrees is too high. After that shock, your body went on the defensive, which lowered it for a little while, but it didn't last long."

"Why should I even be listening to you?" Danny snapped suddenly, cutting him off. "Geeze, this medication must be getting to me if I'm even considering-"

"Considering the fact that I brought you here when you didn't have the energy to shift?" the older ghost growled, leaning forward with his hands clutching the bed's railing. "Considering the fact that I am insuring you get treatment from the best diagnostician in the nation?"

"Who, House? That guy is nearly as crazy as you, and that's saying something."

"Then with insanity runs brilliance, it seems. Gregory House is world renowned for his ability to cure sicknesses that the rest of the population don't even have names for, and that includes your own." The boy scowled, attempting to push himself straighter.

"I told you, Plasmius, there's nothing wrong with me." Vlad seemed to smirk slightly, taking a step back and gesturing at the room in general.

"Well then, by all means, teach me a lesson," he invited. "There aren't any ghost hunters here, and I assure you the normal pests you deal with wouldn't interrupt." There was a distinct silence in which Danny seemed to consider this option before he let his head fall back onto the pillow. Green eyes narrowed even further, if possible, and he shifted slightly to watch the door.

"What are you up to, then? I'm sure you've been waiting to rant about your master plan for ages." Vlad raised one eyebrow at this sudden sense of defeat, letting himself fall the few inches to stand fully on the ground.

"While I do love informing you about just how far ahead of you I  _constantly_ am…that's not the case today, Daniel. Believe it or not, I brought you here to help you. It would be a waste of time to simply destroy you now." Danny shook his head again rather wearily, still avoiding eye contact with his 'visitor'. He realized this was probably the most civil conversation they had managed since the reunion, mainly due to the fact he couldn't actually do anything. His chest hadn't stopped throbbing since he woke up, and the Tegretol seemed to be making him fairly groggy. It wouldn't last long though, he knew; one thing they had discovered after he got his powers was how fast this form processed everything. It was a slight downside, as pain medication was cleaned out before it could do any good, but it seemed to be helping here. The sedatives wouldn't keep him down long and he couldn't really be badly affected by any 'treatments' the doctors gave him.

"Sure," the boy muttered. The pain in his chest was keeping him from thinking up many witty comebacks, but it didn't matter. "I'll be out of here the minute I can fly anyway."

"I don't think so, actually." Danny blinked before turning back to the other halfa with a raised eyebrow.

"You might be able to beat me in a fight, but you can't stop me leaving." Vlad chuckled softly, shaking his head as if the defiance amused him.

"That's where your wrong, Daniel. Ghost shields are really not that hard to produce, especially smaller ones. It took a bit of thought getting one small and long-lasting at the same time, but there you go." The teenager blinked once and then pushed himself up quickly.

"That was  _you?_ " he demanded. "You gave me that stupid shock?" The pain was rather delayed, but it came in full force nonetheless. Danny gave a sudden sharp cry, falling back as the wound felt like it split open all over again. Numbing pain jolted through it and seemed to spread to every other part of his body before fading away again very slightly. It was now a sharp, persistent throb, feeling as if someone were consistently beating on his chest with a rubber mallet. He hadn't even realized his eyes were closed until he tired to pry them open. The light was blinding and it took the boy a moment to realize he couldn't see Vlad anymore…the sound of running footsteps was probably the reason behind that.

"So what was that about leaving?" he heard muttered before the door was pushed open. The young hybrid attempted to shoot back a retort, but his throat didn't want to cooperate. At least two doctors were now beside him, pulling his hands away from his chest while talking hurriedly. They weren't any voices he recognized; most likely not part of his normal group of interrogators. There was suddenly motion…Danny bit back a yell as he was turned briefly and felt one side of his hospital gown pulled over his arm.

"This is one of House's cases, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I think so…" The boy blinked, attempting to keep his vision from swimming. It was times like these he wished he could breathe naturally; as it was, the trembling was difficult to control. The air was suddenly cool on his chest and it took him a moment to realize they had pulled the thin gown down, exposing the cut beneath. Having been either wrapped or under the haz-mat suit for so long, it stung in protest to being in the open air. There was a short silence before one of the doctors swore under his breath.

"What the-What  _is_ this?"

"It doesn't matter what it is at the moment!" His companion snapped, striding to a cabinet at the far side of the room. "Whatever it is, it needs to be closed, the kid's bleeding out…" Danny opened his mouth slightly, having every intention of telling them that they were freaking out for nothing. He never managed it, however; his mind was fairly sluggish due to the combination of pain and his 'epilepsy' medication.  _Bleeding out…? That certainly won't help any._

"Someone call House!" the first man ordered. Judging by the murmurs by the door, backup had come. At least one other nurse…or was it? The young woman seemed to have run off again, most likely to fetch the psycho doctor with the cane. He still couldn't get his eyes to focus. Stupid medicine, probably had some side-effect on people who were half dead. "I swear, if Cuddy doesn't kill him for this I'll do it myself…"

"Kill him later, fix this kid now!" Green eyes blinked a few times, still staring at the overhead light. The two doctors blocked it occasionally and Danny yelped as he finally realized a needle was pushed into his arm.

"What…?" The word was slurred and he attempted to put one hand to his head. It didn't seem to want to move more than an inch off the bed.

"Sorry kid, gotta put you under. You'll prefer it to the alternative, trust me…"  _Another sedative?_ He couldn't be knocked out again; they might end up finding something…

" _I think he could use a mild dose of the sedative - 4 milliliters. He needs to hold still and he's struggling too much."_

_Don't go there…_ He forced his mind away from the memory, trying to concentrate on the present situation. There was no way he could let them find anything that might lead to some dangerous - if accurate - conclusions.

"-get him stitched up - stop the bleeding."

"… _still trying to move…you gave him is working, though…hold him down?"_

_No, no…not again._

"What kind of blood - how on earth is this kid still -"

"… _think he's ready."_ The conversation was fading fairly quickly. He could hardly distinguish between the present and the flashbacks lazily trailing across his mind. Danny barely managed to turn his head to the left, where he had last heard the older half-ghost's voice. If he was just going to stand there and watch as they pondered over the qualities of ectoplasm…

"I go down," he managed to whisper just as the room began to fade, "you're going down with me…"

* * *

"Hey kid, wake up."

"Would you leave him alone, House? He just had half his chest stitched up, there's no way the sedative would've worn off-"

"It did last time. He's gotta be consistent about  _something._ " Danny felt a prod in one shoulder and flinched, automatically shifting away from it. He heard a satisfied grunt to his right, followed by a gruff "Told ya." The light was bright, even behind his eyelids, and the halfa cringed.

"Whu…?"

"Don't strain yourself," House warned, and Danny could imagine a slight smirk behind it. "We don't want your brain short circuiting." The boy managed to pry his eyes open slightly, first staring at the ceiling before turning slightly to squint at his doctor. "And welcome back to the land of the living! Good thing, too, it would've looked  _really_ bad on my record if I killed a kid by missing a gaping wound…"

"House, shut up." Was that Cameron? It was obviously a woman, but her voice seemed different from Cameron's, a bit sharper. Surprisingly, House seemed to actually listen to her…at least for a moment. Blinking a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes he glanced the newcomer over quickly. Not Cameron…someone else. She held herself confidently as if she owned the place - which, he had to remind himself, was a distinct possibility.

"What did - Hey!" Danny threw up one hand instinctively in front of his face as a sudden light was pointed directly into one eye. The penlight was withdrawn and House's smirk grew.

"You so owe me that ten bucks," he said, glancing up at the woman who simply rolled her eyes. "Now, as for you, kid…" The man leaned forward again. "Stop running away from the light like you're some vampire - even if it  _would_ some - and focus for me." His patient managed to shoot him a half-hearted glare before turning his attention to the still-unknown adult.

"Who're you?" His mind was far clearer than the last time he had woken up here…probably due to the fact he actually had time to flush all the various drugs through his system. House sighed dramatically at this, his hands going up in apparent defeat.

"Or ignore your doctor, fine." Danny was reminded of a young kid being denied a toy by the pout on his face, though it fell away quickly. With a slight grimace, the diagnostician pushed himself to his feet and turned toward the door. "Cuddy, keep him entertained for a while, would you? I'll fetch the three Musketeers." Without waiting for a reply, he limped purposefully out into the hallway and they could both hear the man calling - loudly - for his team as he strode away. It fell silent when the door swung shut again and Danny turned his attention back to the woman.

"Who're you?" he repeated with a slight glare. She seemed to sigh, settling herself into the now-empty chair.

"Dr. Cuddy." At the blank look, she gave a shrug. "I suppose House never actually mentions me by name around the patients, or they might know who to complain to…I'm the Dean of Medicine here and therefore one of the only people that man will  _occasionally_ listen to." Cuddy lifted her pale eyes to the ceiling briefly as if asking for patience. "I suppose you've found out by now that Dr. House isn't exactly…the best at bedside manner. He's an excellent doctor, but he can be…" She trailed off, searching for the right term which Danny was all too ready to provide.

"A complete jerk? A paranoid, distrustful-"

"Which is why it takes a little prodding to get him going sometimes," the woman cut in, restraining a smile. "If patients aren't in critical condition, House would spend all his time in here interrogating them about the most trivial things. He is, however, great at what he does, so most of us have learned to put up with everything else." There was a pause in which the boy scowled, still blinking a bit blearily.

"I'm not giving him a break just because he's good," he informed Cuddy bluntly. "If he's a jerk, I'll be a jerk back."

"That's fine," she told him, one hand raising. "Honestly, I wouldn't expect any different. The only thing I ask you, Daniel…" The doctor paused and he vaguely wondered how she had learned his name. "Just give the team what they need to know. They're just trying to get you well and get you home. I'm sure your parents are worried sick by now…"

_No, they loved_ Fenton. Phantom  _on the other hand was nothing more than a valuable experiment. 'A husk of the living.' 'A dead, unfeeling creature.' A ghost…_

He cringed, turning away to look at the far window. "No," the boy muttered quietly. "No they're not." Cuddy was quiet for a moment before he heard her stand.

"I've got a meeting," she said softly. "Page one of the nurses if you need anything. Someone should be in to change your bandages in an hour or so."  _Bandages?_ The sound of heels on tile announced her departure and Danny immediately turned to look at his chest with some confusion. Now that he thought about it, he didn't remember much about what happened before he was knocked out; he had been talking to Plasmius - and then his chest had exploded. The wound must have reopened again as it did so easily, jolted by his sudden movement. It had been like a sudden flash of the lab all over again…

_Thoughts barely coherent, my insides felt like they were being frozen and boiled at the same time … My entire body tensed in a hopeless attempt to escape it as I threw my head back onto the table, fists clenching and unclenching, a choking sob catching itself in my throat…_

Blinking rapidly, the halfa clutched at his bandaged side, arms trembling. What had they even done to him? Obviously the two doctors who had come in when he screamed had been trying to stop the blood - but it wouldn't have been blood. Green eyes widened and he looked down at the sheets frantically. There should've been the strange pale-green glow of ectoplasm, at least on his gown…but the white material both on him and on the bed was spotless.  _How…?_

"I must admit, that whole episode was poorly thought out, Daniel." Jumping, he stared around the room for a moment before letting out a soft groan as his head fell onto the pillow again.

"Would you just  _shut up?_ " Danny nearly pleaded, his eyes now closed. "It's your fault I'm here, your fault all this is happening-"

" _My_ fault?" Plasmius's voice was close now, at the foot of the bed as he had been last time. He sounded almost amused. "You, son, were the one who planted yourself outside my manor. You were the one who refused to tell me what had happened, forcing my hand to bring you to professionals. You, of course, were the one who opened that gash again."

_Shut up…_ His mind was racing now, frantically trying to get everything in order again.

"You can't really place the blame on me, Daniel. I may have been the one who brought you here, but you were nearly begging me to do _something."_

_Shut up!_

"After all, sitting on my property for a few hours isn't exactly the best plan if you're looking not to be confronted. If you had told me what had happened to you-"

" _Shut up!"_ The older ghost seemed shocked into silence for a moment and Danny distantly wondered if anyone was outside to have heard him. Green eyes flashed as he looked up again and they met red ones with more venom than Plasmius probably would have thought possible. "I know, alright? I know it's my fault.  _All of this_ is my freaking fault!"

( _They love you_ )

His eyes squeezed shut and the boy fought to keep tears back. "You think I don't realize that by now? It's my fault. If I had done maybe  _one_ thing differently, I wouldn't have-wouldn't have been there."

( _They love you so tell them; just tell them who you are_ )

"I  _know_ it's my fault, just because I didn't say anything." He was barely coherent, he realized…but it didn't matter anyway. "Just because of what I am, because I thought I could get away with it that long."

( _Tell them or you'll die_ )

"My fault because I thought I could keep it a secret…keep away from them. My fault because I'm just some…some  _freak_ , a monster…" His mother's face seemed to swim across his mind and his cheek stung with the memory of the biting slap.

_"Don't call me that."_ She hadn't believed him, hadn't even considered it… _"You're_ evil _. You're a_ ghost _. A lying, disgusting_ monster _. And you are most certainly_ not _our son."_

Silence followed the tirade and Plasmius seemed to be struck dumb. Danny's eyes stayed closed, not daring to look at the expression on the other halfa's face.  _At least,_ he thought grimly,  _I haven't started bawling yet..._

"Daniel, I-I don't know-" Whatever he was about to say was cut off as footsteps sounded past the clear wall of the hospital room and both ghosts turned quickly toward the door. Plasmius swore under his breath, vanishing as quickly as he had appeared. Danny automatically glanced around the room before falling back again with a grunt. Judging by the number of quiet voices, House had found his entire team - and Wilson - and brought them all to ponder over his abnormalities.

"How on earth did the sedative wear off that fast?" he heard Cameron question.

"Once we get this kid cured we might have to run a few tests, find out what can flush his system that quickly. It could be used to help wake patients up…"

_No more tests,_ one section of his mind begged.  _Please, just no more tests…_

"Come on, kid." House's voice was gruff as usual and Danny cringed as the sound of the cane hitting the metal bed frame rung in his ears. "We've gotta get a few questions answered, and it'll be easier for everyone if you just answer them quickly and get it over with."

" _You're an ectoplasmic anomaly. There's so much we don't know about you…"_

Against his will the boy felt one tear slip down his face, thankfully on the side facing away from the group of doctors. He managed to fight any more back, biting his lip.  _Just go away…just please, go away. Leave me alone…_

Green eyes opened, glaring defiantly at the scruffy face above him. "I'm not promising anything." House snorted, his own eyes rolling.

"Of course…Foreman, get the antibiotics hooked up. Everyone else might as well get comfortable. We'll be in here a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some direct quotes were taken, with permission, from Lab Rat toward the end of this chapter. It's really worth the read, if you have a chance and a spare heart, as it will rip your current one out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, I believe, to the beta'd stage! Hopefully the quality improved at least a little, because DragonDancer is amazing like that.

"Don't you have other patients to work with?"

"None in critical condition," House said with a shrug, throwing himself into a chair as Foreman began connecting a bag of fluid to the IV. "Not that you are at the moment - as far as we can tell - but you could be if we don't get things straightened out."

"I've told you, I'm  _fine_." Danny glanced over to the left in search of Vlad, but the older half-ghost was still persistently invisible. He was still here, listening.

"Some basic facts state otherwise," House told him with a raised eyebrow. "For one, your vitals are nonexistent. You seem to have some condition that brings about sudden seizures, even if it is just epilepsy. Most importantly, however," the man jabbed one finger at him rather accusingly, "there's the small matter of that giant gash down your chest. If you haven't noticed, not many people have those. Mind informing us _how_ you were gutted like a fish?"

"Does that even matter?"

"Stop being stupid on purpose, kid, it doesn't suit you." The rest of the team seemed accustomed to House's bedside manner, Danny noticed, and were carefully staying out of it. Foreman returned to the others once the IV was set up and watched his boss with arms crossed. Cameron seemed a bit conflicted, as if she were feeling some sympathy for their patient but agreed with House at the same time. He noticed Chase was watching the diagnostician and hadn't actually looked directly at Danny since they had come in. Wilson, on the other hand, was watching the boy as if expecting some signs of distress. He figured if anyone were to save him from House, it would be Wilson. After all, he was the only one who - from what he could tell - didn't have to worry about his job when talking to the man, even if it was just because they got along.

"Stop being a jerk on purpose, then," the halfa shot back. "I have a cut, okay? How I got it doesn't matter."

"I beg to differ. If we know what your cut yourself with, and how, we might be able to tell if anything got in there. And," He raised one hand as Danny opened his mouth to interrupt, "it's not like you just held a knife the wrong way with this. Not even you're that much of an idiot." The room was silent for a moment and green eyes widened slightly.

"What makes you say that?" he finally asked warily. "It's just a cut, it was an accident."

"So how did it happen, then?" Blast it; he hadn't had time to think that far ahead yet.

"I - I fell."  _Brilliant, Fenton, that was just brilliant._  Not one of his better excuses...As expected, House smirked.

"You fell? Honestly?" Danny paused and then sighed in some resignation.

"No."

"Thought not." One finger tapped idly at the wooden cane and blue eyes turned to look out the window. "If it weren't for the fact you seem to be able to remember everything else, I might blame Korsakoff's for what appears to be a nice consistent stream of lies." At the boy's blank look, he sighed heavily. "Medical stuff, kid. Memory blanks, to put it simply. Considering you don't have any of the other symptoms, though, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and just assume you're lying through your teeth."

"I'm  _not_ lying!" the white-haired teenager snapped, pushing himself onto his elbows. The stitches pulled slightly, but he ignored them and put all of his energy into meeting the doctor's slightly amused eyes. "I've been telling you the truth this entire time, it's your own fault if you don't believe me."

"Then prove it." House leaned forward, both arms resting on his knees. "What happened?" Danny swallowed, resisting the urge to just lay back down and block the doctors out completely. If he could just fly…

"I don't know," he said finally. "I must've blacked out or something. I was just out walking and then…" Shoulders shrugged wearily and he was once again impressed at his own ability to keep a straight face while making up a story on the spot. He  _hadn't_ been lying, that much was true. He never said that he  _wouldn't._  "I woke up here with all of you shouting everywhere."

"So how did you get from Illinois to New Jersey?" the man asked quickly, receiving another shrug in response.

"No clue. It could've been anything, right? My weird teleporting skills, they go right along with my weird disease that  _doesn't exist._ " House paused a moment, eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the face of his patient.

"Chase, what was it you found in that blood sample?" The blonde man started slightly at being addressed before instinctively glancing down at the clipboard he held.

"Some bacteria," he reported, glancing up at said blood's provider for the first time since they came in. "I still need to get it tested for staph, but it-"

"The  _other_ stuff, genius," his boss cut in impatiently. "Bacteria's too normal for this kid, what was the other stuff?" Chase blinked, frowning before giving a shrug.

"We don't know. I asked a few people in the lab, but no one had heard of anything like that before." House nodded sharply, now leaning back in the chair and surveying the boy's reaction as he spoke.

"Your blood is weird, kid. It's got the normal cells, platelets and other such healthy stuff. It's also got some bacteria, which can probably be cleaned up with a good blast of antibiotics. Mr. Perceptive here," He jabbed his cane in Chase's direction quickly, "overlooked the fact that there's something in there that normal people just don't have." After a pause, which Danny figured was for dramatic effect, the teenager gave in and frowned.

"What was it?"

"That's just it. We don't know. No one knows. All the brilliant medical minds could tell was that the stuff was…" House glanced down at his own clipboard and rolled his eyes, "'Green and iridescent'. Not remarkably helpful." Another silence stretched as Danny waited for the man to continue, but his patience was thin enough in normal circumstances.

"So what?" the hybrid questioned, trying to ignore the slight pounding in his head. Maybe Plasmius had been right about that fever…usually he was always cool as Phantom. It didn't bother him at all, as his ghost form seemed to be impervious to cold, but now everything seemed warmer than it should be. "It's not like I know what's going on in my blood, alright?"

"Sure you don't." The diagnostician took to watching the wall above the bed carefully. "No one does, which keeps us employed." The sudden movement was unexpected, and Danny barely had time to yelp as he felt a sharp pull on his head. One hand going to rub the area, green eyes narrowed.

"What was that for?" he demanded, eying the two white hairs in the man's hand warily. His question was ignored and House glanced them over quickly before turning, handing his prize to Foreman.

"Do a tox-screen," he ordered. "Then run the other for DNA, see if we can't pin down  _something._ " The dark-skinned doctor hesitated briefly, glancing at Danny before taking the hairs and striding out the door.

"You think I'm on drugs?" the boy questioned, blinking quickly. "I'm not an idiot, you know." The statement, again, was ignored and House seemed to return to his initial point quickly.

"What happened to your chest?" Danny scowled, now fighting to keep the room in focus. He just wanted to sleep…

"I told you, I don't know. I blacked out."

"Whatever it was, it's not exactly a little cut from hitting the coffee table." He was musing now, apparently not expecting any answers, which Danny was all too happy to relent to. "Three incisions, all from something extremely sharp, most likely surgical. Three of them, in the shape of a 'Y'…So tell me something, kid." Blue eyes locked back on the patient and all sarcasm seemed to have vanished. "Who's got a grudge against you?"

"A-a grudge?" Well he could name ten without thinking too hard…"No one, why-"

"This was intentional." House was addressing the remainder of his team now. "The wound is too precise to be an accident and anything but a scalpel-like blade wouldn't have made incisions that deep without further damage to the skin around it. The shape of it is also a bit of a clue, if anyone caught it." Glancing between the other three, he raised one eyebrow expectantly. "C'mon, don't any of you remember your high school biology class? I'm ashamed."

"But House, that's…" Wilson paled very slightly, glancing between his friend and the patient who had given up on trying to remain upright and let himself sink back onto the pillow. "That's absurd, it's-"

"Sick and wrong?" House supplied quickly. "Depends on your point of view. After all, if he was like this, I assume it was an honest mistake."

"No hospital would give permission for that unless they're  _sure,_ " the oncologist stated, arms crossing. "Even med students who were blind  _and_ stupid could tell this kid isn't dead."

"Well sure, but who says it was anyone in a hospital?"

"Who else would?"

"Beats me, that's what we want to figure out." Danny noticed the scruffy man grimace slightly and reach into his coat pocket, withdrawing an orange pill bottle. "Whoever it was either has rocks where their brains are supposed to be or they  _really_ don't like him." Three pills were shaken into his hand and House threw them back into his mouth, swallowing quickly. No one else seemed fazed by it and the bottle vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "The question is, why would someone try an autopsy on a kid who's clearly not dead?"

"Autopsy?" Danny repeated. "What do you mean autopsy?" His doctor sighed - he seemed to do that a lot when people didn't understand his 'brilliance' - and placed his cane he still held over the chair's armrests.

"You take biology yet?"

"Of course, sophomore year-"

"Then you should know all about dissections." He lifted one hand, tracing the shape with a finger. "One cut down the abdomen, two branching from the top of that toward the shoulders." The hand fell again and House frowned, obviously a little put off that there wasn't any sudden freaking out. "Someone tried to gut you, kid, and apparently did a pretty good job of it." Danny swallowed, glancing down at his chest. His hands were trembling slightly, though he didn't know if it was because he was afraid they had figured it out so quickly or just part of the fever.  _Subject change, now!_

"Why do you keep calling me 'kid'?" he demanded, ignoring the fact that his jump from the topic didn't go unnoticed. "I have a name."

"Simply because we don't actually  _know_ your name," the man stated. "You've lied about nearly everything else, so until we get some proof I'll assume you're lying about any name as well. You might as well be a Jon Doe at this point." Blinking rapidly, the halfa put one hand on his head and let his eyes fall closed. It was just way too warm…

"I wasn't-wasn't lying," he hissed. "It's not…can I get some water?" House frowned slightly before he nodded to Cameron who slipped into the hallway.

"The blanket helping, then?"

"It's hot…"

"Well yeah, that  _is_ the point." Glancing up at the monitor, his frown deepened and eyes narrowed slightly. "Still only eighty, though. You feeling any better?" Danny ran one hand over his face before glaring up at the doctor.

"Better than  _what?_ " he muttered. "I was fine until you dragged me in here…" Eyes closed and he left one hand lying over them. "I've been dizzy, though-"

"How long?" It seemed House had a 'doctor' mode that would switch on if given the right incentive. He was suddenly on his feet, leaning heavily on the cane.

"I dunno, a while."

"What's your sister's name?" The halfa opened one eye to peer between his fingers, baffled.

"Wh-what's that got to do with-"

"Just answer the question, kid."

"…Jasmine, but I don't-"

"Where do you go to school?"

"Look, this…this doesn't-"

"I need to check your memory. School, now." Danny had to pause a moment before letting his eye fall shut again.

"Casper High." House seemed to frown, tapping at the handle of his cane again.

"No amnesia that I can tell. It could be just the start of the symptoms, though." Glancing up, he started slightly, realizing Wilson and Chase were still present, watching the exchange with wide eyes. Cameron reentered a moment later, a pitcher of water in one hand and a plastic cup in the other. "Looks like our dead-boy's body just realized its own temperature," he told them and the woman frowned.

"Just now? Why so late?"

"No idea…and he's still not shivering, which is one of the first signs." Turning back to the patient, House leaned over the bed slightly. "Anything else feel off, kid?"

"Other than the fact I'm…in a freaking  _hospital?_ " He snorted. "Just peachy. Can I get this stupid blanket off now? It's hot."

"Then it's doing its job. Leave it." The doctor glanced over at Chase as a sudden beeping intruded on the silence and the other man pulled his pager from one pocket. The same alert sounded for Cameron and, a moment later, even House. He groaned, shutting off the device without looking at it as the others frowned.

"Bradson's crashed," Chase reported, tucking the pager away again. "Respiratory failure…"

"Probably because of the  _Medrol,_ I  _told_ you he couldn't handle it…"

"It could've worked!" House defended, already halfway to the door. "At least it narrowed the options."

"Oh yes,  _wonderful_ way of diagnosing. Let's just see what  _doesn't_ kill them…!" The three disappeared out the door quickly, leaving Wilson looking somewhat lost. Danny managed to open one eye again, watching the oncologist a bit warily.

"Wilson, right?" he asked quietly. The man nodded, moving to stand beside the bed.

"Right. I guess House has complained about me before, then?"

"Nah, I'm just…" The boy had to pause, attempting to stop his head from spinning. "I've learned to listen. I know the whole team now, even though they only introduced themselves once - while I was still half drugged."

"Impressive." Wilson grinned, glancing up at the monitors that were still stubbornly showing his lack of vitals. "So they've still got no idea what's up with you, eh?"

"That's because…because  _nothing_ is wrong," Danny muttered. "I just um…ya know, got cut. They should be able to sew me up and send me back, right?"

"If it weren't for the other complications, yeah." Brown eyes narrowed slightly, turning to look out the far window. "You don't seem…worried about the fact you should be dead, Danny. That's a bit odd."

"It's a bit odd that…you're the first one to call me Danny in…" Another pause, another mental command to concentrate, "in a few hours. The rest of them are right along with House, aren't they?" The doctor scoffed softly, looking back at the boy with an amused expression.

"Not as much as you'd think," he commented. "Cameron, sure, she agrees with him much faster than the others. Chase has adopted his 'everybody lies' philosophy, so he's like-minded more with himself than with House, and Foreman…well, Foreman doesn't see eye to eye with House about anything, but he could have the same opinion. He would just never  _admit_ that he agrees." Wilson chuckled, shaking his head. "It's like high school all over again in here sometimes."

"How are you friends with him?" Green eyes met brown as Danny let his hand fall back to the bed, rather surprised by his own bluntness. "I mean, House is…he's not the easiest to get along with, I don't see how-"

"You don't know how many times I've been asked that." The man cut him off, arms crossing as he looked away again. "Heck, I've asked myself plenty of times. It's a little complicated, but…" A small sigh, and he shrugged. "It's like any friendship. It just takes some work. I take it your friends don't agree with every single thing you do, right?" The hybrid almost laughed, remembering the last time Sam had given him an hour long lecture after a stupid move during a fight.

"You could say that."

"I guess House just takes a little more effort than other people would. Especially when he's  _really_ and idiot and nearly kills someone based off a hunch…" He rolled his eyes briefly. "But I think you know how it goes. It's your best friend, what are you going to do?"

" _We're your friends, Danny. Kicking back or kicking butt…" He has a point._

"So I guess you'll tell me to give him a break, huh?"

"Of course not." The doctor waved one hand vaguely. "He could use all the abrasiveness you can throw at him, might knock some humility into that thick skull…but whatever the guy does, he  _is_ a doctor. He took the oath just like the rest of us. No matter how much of a jerk the guy can be, he is trying to help." A short silence fell and Danny let his eyes close again as Wilson glanced at his watch. "I have an appointment in a few minutes…you'll be alright on your own?"

"Yeah, I…I've got the button and everything." The man nodded, turning toward the door only to stop again as Danny suddenly spoke up again. "Wait a second, though…what did he take? Those pills wh-when he was talking. No one seemed to notice, but…" A slight frown came over Wilson's face and he ran one hand through his hair as if unsure how much to say.

"Vicodin," he stated finally. "For the limp." The door closed behind him with a soft snap and the room was once again silent. After a pause, assuring himself the staff had all actually left, Danny quickly pushed the blankets to the foot of the bed, groaning softly as his head hit the pillow again.

"They could be progressing faster if they knew your actual vitals." Green eyes squeezed shut, his head still pounding. It was always a bit difficult switching attitudes so quickly, and being suddenly allowed to go back gave him whiplash. "If there was some way of telling them without exposing you…"

"Yeah, and how do you plan on doing that?" the younger halfa demanded, squinting through the bright fluorescent lights at his 'caretaker'. "Right, they'll be…just  _thrilled_ to find out it's normal for me t-to be like this. This isn't a human's definition of normal, Plasmius. You give one thing away, they start making guesses." Vlad sighed softly, arms crossed.

"If it weren't for that House…" he hissed, glaring at the door. "That man is far to perceptive. The others wouldn't have caught half of what they know without him."

"They would eventually," Danny muttered. "House is just paranoid. He doesn't think like the rest."

"Be that as it may," Red eyes turned back to the bed as he strode to its side, "they've found something I wasn't aware of. What happened to you that would give you a wound like that, Daniel?" The patient's weary face suddenly hardened, glaring at his rival before turning away.

"I told you, it's…none of your concern."

"An  _autopsy?_ " Black-gloved hands clutched at the side rails suddenly. "I think that  _is_ some of my concern, especially considering they would have to know a good deal about ghosts to manage to capture you."

"Maybe they'll get you too someday, that would be poetic justice…"

" _Who_ , Daniel?" Vlad leaned over the side of the bed, apparently having to resist forcing the boy to face him. Danny blinked blearily, his vision now swimming. Even without the blanket, it didn't seem to be any cooler. "I need to know  _who_."

"Poetic justice…" the young hybrid muttered softly. "Especially when you saw…saw that it was  _her_ holding that scalpel. You'd realize that she…she couldn't stand the sight of you. Either of you." Green eyes closed and he was trembling now, holding his stomach gingerly. The realization took a little while to come, but when it did, Vlad's eyes widened further than he would think possible.

"No…" he whispered, gripping the metal as if trying to disintegrate it. "Good Lord, not-not your-" The epiphany was cut short as Danny suddenly went rigid, barely managing to hang his head off the other side of the bed as his stomach announced its disapproval, emptying itself of what little it held. The man swore, managing to grab the teen's shoulder before he slipped onto the floor.

As if that one action had expended any leftover energy, Danny managed a groan before going limp, apparently falling unconscious. Vlad glanced around quickly before his eyes narrowed and he vanished from sight again, reaching across the bed to jab at the emergency button that lay on it.

"You find  _very_ inconvenient times to pass out, Daniel…"

* * *

 

"How's Bradson?"

"Stabilized. His oxygen levels are back to normal, should be fine for a while…"

"Yeah, until whatever this is decides to hit his heart instead of his lungs." House ran one hand over his face as he limped back down the hallway leaving the beeping machines and sounds of the breathing machine behind. "This can't just be an infection, it's moving too slowly."

"There are some slow moving infections out there, they they don't all have to hit in a day."

"And which one of those includes random internal bleeding as well as a paralyzed left side?" The small group fell silent, both Cameron and Chase automatically in step behind their boss. "We'll see if the antibiotics do anything. Could ignore the entire problem or they could just pretend to fix it."

"Then why use them at all?"

"Because it's an 'infection'," House shot back, making the air quotes with one hand. "Either way, it won't make him too much worse off. That would be hard to manage."" He gave an exasperated sigh as the persistent beeping once again accompanied a short buzz at his hip and the man pulled the pager out, holding it to eye-level. "Great, I'm actually having to work this week…Dead kid just decided to pass out on us."

"House!" Blue eyes glanced back as Foreman strode toward them, a few papers clutched in one hand. "I couldn't-"

"Find anything on the kid?" The dark-skinned doctor shook his head.

"Nothing. Whoever he is, he hasn't had any reason to put DNA in the system."

"Tox-screens?"

"Clear. He's clean of everything." House sighed, glancing toward the room he was supposed to be rushing towards.

"Look up Casper High," he ordered. "Check for any kids resembling ours, maybe even any 'Danny's. He could be using his actual first name just to make it easier on himself."

"Casper High…?"

"I got him to let it slip," the diagnostician explained. "He claims it's where he goes to school. If there's nothing there, we'll start over, but I think that might be the key to finally finding out who this kid is." Tucking his pager in its case again, he continued down the hallway, motioning to the other two. "You're coming with me. If he tried to jump out the window again, I'm letting you handle it. That 'Danny' is already on my list..."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decent amount of dialogue, but it is plot movement, I swear.  
> I'm procrastinating writing the next chapter by putting more up here. I still have no idea why people like it; the more I read the thing the dumber it seems, but...ah well.

“How is he?”

“Hard to say. Without the main vitals, it’s not exactly an easy call to make.”

“Still out cold?”

“Yeah. At least he’s just unconscious and hasn’t died on us yet.”

“Don’t jinx it, Chase, I’d like him to still be alive when I get in tomorrow.”

House sighed, running one hand through his hair. He was beginning to be frustrated with this case, and it wasn’t just because the kid was annoying - though that was a contributing factor. It wasn’t everyday something completely stumped the man. He always managed to get some hint to test, even if it was a bit far-fetched. With this one, however, no such possibilities came to mind. The symptoms contradicted themselves, new ones kept coming up without warning and they still had no clue who the kid was.

“We have an MRI scheduled, right?” he asked, glancing at the other two who were - as usual - keeping pace behind him. They were walking? You might wanna make that specific.

“Tomorrow morning,” Cameron affirmed. “He’s got the first slot.” Her boss nodded to himself, hardly paying attention to his steps as they made their way back to his office.

_Just one more meeting,_  the man reminded himself.  _One more, then I’m going home and sleeping…_

“It seems like it should be hypothermia,” Chase mused. “Disoriented, light-headedness, falling unconscious…but it doesn’t cause nausea. Combined with the rest, that’s more along the lines of a heat stroke.”

“In opposite land it fits,” House muttered with a frown. “The nausea could be just another symptom conveniently coming up right as all the others did. That would just raise the question of what did cause it.”

“Well that’s always the question, isn’t it? That’s what you’re supposed to figure out, probably the only reason Cuddy keeps you here.”

“Really?” The doctor stopped briefly, turning to give Chase a disbelieving look. “I was sure it was for my good looks and charm.” The statement received the expected eye-roll and he continued down the hall. His cane provided a steady, muffled beat to accompany the footsteps echoing slightly in the near silence. One nurse hurried past, a clipboard in hand, but the floor was otherwise almost deserted. Everyone else with some sanity was home already…The diagnostic ward was not one to be bustling at midnight. From what he had seen, only the ER had people admitted this late. It was just his luck that his patients tended to suddenly crash in the middle of the night.

“So does she even know you’re doing the MRI?” One eyebrow rose as House shot the Australian doctor a questioning glance. “Cuddy. Did you tell her?”

“I don’t need to tell her every time I do something to try and save a kid’s life.”

“Which is why you get away with half of it.” Chase snorted lightly, shaking his head. “I can just imagine this one would go over real well. We don’t know his medical history, if there’s something--”

“Yes, we could potentially rip part of his arm out if he got a pin during surgery. I figure it’s better than being dead.”

“She would tell you to wait until we found out who he is.” The diagnostician threw up one hand in mock defeat, still watching the floor ahead of him.

“Ah, well I suppose we should just sit by and wait for the kid to go into a coma before checking for anything. He might not wake up, but at least we’ll know his arm will be fine.”

“Hey, I’m actually agreeing with you for once. I’m just saying if she finds out, you’ll definitely be in trouble.”

“Heaven forbid! That’s never happened before…”

“Doesn’t matter.” All three paused, looking back as Foreman strode to catch up with them with a rather sizable stack of papers in one hand. “We have his history - or, at least, most of it.” Holding up the papers, he offered a rather weary grin. “Casper High happens to have a student named Daniel Fenton, more often known as Danny. This Danny has black hair and blue eyes, but other than that, he fits the description perfectly. I figure some pretty powerful hair dye could make it white and…well, who knows what he did to his eyes--”

“We’ll consider the insecurities of teenagers later,” House cut in, continuing down the hall again. “Is there anything that would prevent us from doing an MRI?”

“Not that I’ve found. He hasn’t had any broken bones, nothing that would require pins or the like.” Glancing down at the forms, the man laughed shortly. “In fact, he hasn’t been to the doctor since he was thirteen.”

“Was there anything unusual reported then? Lower-than-average temperature or irregular breathing?”

“No, he was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“So now it’s just the question of how something like this suddenly sprung on him without anyone noticing.” House stopped outside of his office door, turning to his team and resting most of his weight on the cane. “Hopefully he’ll be more willing to share important information if we let him believe we already have it. An actual name is a good start.” Glancing between the other three, he held out one hand for the papers which Foreman surrendered quickly. “We’ll get a hold of the parents in the morning. Even with the time difference it’s way too late and the kid isn’t exactly dying.”

“It might take a few days for them to get out here,” Cameron pointed out. “Amity Park is pretty far north and there’s a big storm coming in, it could slow flights down.” 

“As long as they know he’s here, I don’t really care.” Tucking the file under one arm, the diagnostician shrugged. “It’s easier, really. Parents tend to freak out over everything that could potentially be painful. It took me half an hour to convince one lady to let me do a lumbar puncture last case…If they know where he is, it’s fine by me if they get snowed in. I just want to get this kid cured and get him out of my hair.”

“Always the face of sympathy, aren’t you?” Chase observed, his arms crossing. House simply grinned, pushing the door open with one shoulder.

“Of course. Now, it’s past midnight. I’ve been here since nine. I’m going home. You three can sit around in the hallway for a few hours if you want but unless you want that ‘do no harm’ oath to completely fail and a teenager thrown out a window, I need sleep.” As the glass door swung shut again, House’s limping figure a silhouette in the dark room, the team exchanged weary glances before starting off down the quiet hall.

“So much for that meeting,” Cameron muttered with a barely stifled yawn. Foreman shrugged, his hands going into his coat pockets.

“I guess the history was all he needed. We don’t exactly have any other leads. I’d rather sleep than listen to him complain all night.”

“I think we all would…”

“My ears are burning!” They started, turning to see their boss leaning slightly out the door with a raised eyebrow before he ducked back in sending a parting “Go home!” over one shoulder.

 

* * *

 

 

The overhead lights had long since been shut off. The only real illumination came from the slight glow of the monitors and the muted light from in the hall. It was silent, save for the hum of cars below and a slight breeze coming in through the window. It made the room colder than what was usual for a hospital environment, but that was the point of it.

Red eyes were purposefully less luminous than usual, for fear of a passing nurse noticing the glow. Black-gloved hands were folded with every air of patience, though his gaze told a completely different story. Vlad was watching the patient closely, with an intensity that could be called creepy. He had been sitting in the exact same position for nearly an hour, starting his vigil immediately after pulling the blankets to the foot of the bed and letting the cold night air into the room. For the first time, the halfa almost envied Daniel’s abilities with ice. With them, it would have been far easier to get the boy’s temperature down again. If any of said powers were operationa, Daniel could have done it himself, but as it was, he could only let the elements do their job.

It was a fairly safe assumption that most of the doctors had already gone home. The only people he could see walking outside the room was occasional nurse anda security guard. Every so often a nurse would come in, write down the readouts on a clip board and readjust the blankets, but they would be removed again right after she left. For the first hour or so, Vlad would have to reopen the window every fifteen minutes as someone seemed to notice whenever they passed. After that, however, the checks became less frequent and he was able to brood in silence.

It was always far too much work, looking after someone. It seemed rather ironic that of the three times he had - somewhat - willingly done so, two of them had dealt with the boy in front of him. Granted, the third instance happened to be his cat, but Maddie was far less demanding than a teenager. The most he had to do was set out food and occasionally tell someone to do it for him in the cases of extended trips. Perhaps it would be easier watching another child, a normal one…but when there were so many secrets that had to be kept, things got somewhat complicated. That, of course, presented the question of why he even bothered. That question had risen many times in the past day but he had repressed it every time. Now, however, in the steady silence, it wasn’t easy to ignore.

“I have my reasons,” the half-ghost murmured to himself. True, he had been considering the multiple ways this situation could benefit him - it had been one of the more dominant thought processes when nothing else was happening. That was the excuse he would give if Daniel ever asked. If he were honest with himself, however, it was difficult to find a straight answer. It seemed like part of it was instinct, protecting his own kind. That was a bit of a stretch, but considering this boy and Danielle - who he still couldn’t find - were the only other two halfas known to exist, it could almost be loyalty to their species. He refused to let his mind go too far into that train of thought. It was good enough for the moment, but there were more crucial things to worry about, the identity of the younger hybrid’s torturer was the main priority.

It wasn’t only what concern he had for the boy - even if it was for odd reasons - that made the information so important. The fact of the matter was, as much as he refused to ever admit it to any sort of company, Daniel was talented. True, he couldn’t match up to the skills twenty years of experience could give someone, but for having his powers for less than three years, the improvements were drastic. Vlad recalled taking almost five years just to master a strong shield. Perhaps that was partly due to his love of offensive fighting maneuvers, while Daniel seemed to prefer going on the defensive, but that wasn’t the point. The teenager was skilled at evading detection, making escapes that seemed impossible and, most impressively, managing to keep only three people aware of the fact that he was doing so. The fact that he had kept the secret so long, even with high school and the pressures of his parents’ occupation, was an impressive feat in itself. Obviously, however, someone found out, someone who wasn’t supposed to…

The way Daniel had been talking right before he fell unconscious - again - seemed to point to one main suspect. Vlad had shrugged the thought off as quickly as he could, however. The boy was delusional, struck down with the fever and obviously not in his right mind.

_That would be absurd,_  the halfa told himself yet again, head shaking slightly though his gaze never moved.  _Jack’s a complete idiot, yes, but Maddie…she wouldn’t go through with something like that. On another ghost, yes, but on Daniel…?_

No, it obviously had to be someone else. That left a few options, and out of those only one stood out. The Guys in White weren’t the most competent ghost hunters, but they seemed to have acquired a recent surge in technology. After all, Vlad himself had been the one to hire them in the first place, so they had to have a minimal amount of skill.

The two agents in Amity Park, ones he only knew as K and O, seemed to have taken a personal insult to the ghosts in the town. In fact, if they spent more time researching and less time making sure every ‘district’ of their suits were immaculate, there was a good chance they would have caught something by now.

He certainly wouldn’t put it past them to conduct experiments on any ghost they caught, and if they had proof of Daniel’s status as a halfa…he could easily see all morality vanishing. After all, it was a rare breed. No ghost hunter Vlad could track down had even fantasized about such a thing, and the group may manage to regain some public standing with such information. No one would care that they had dissected a teenager to get the findings. The shock of the idea would be enough that no one would bother questioning it.

_Yes,_  he decided firmly.  _Yes, it has to be the Guys in White…it would explain a great deal, like why he went missing for almost a week afterwards and why he refuses to talk about it._  Those idiots aren’t the most intimidating, but they do have a good deal of the government at their disposal.

“D-don’t…” Red eyes focused in an instant and Vlad leaned forward slightly as his ‘charge’ stirred. One glove-free hand clutched at the side of the bed, but it quickly went limp again and he seemed to simply turn slightly before drifting off once more. At least he was sleeping now, rather than unconscious. Glancing up at the monitors, the man verified that Daniel was gradually cooling down - it was now blinking at seventy nine. Still far too warm, but it was some improvement. Now if only he would wake up…he had to remind himself that causing the boy a panic attack wouldn’t help the situation any and resisted the urge to simply shake him awake. Now was a time when his patience would come in handy. He would simply wait. Wait, and then he would talk with the teenager.

It wasn’t so hard. Vlad Masters was a man of many talents, and waiting was one of them.

…

Waiting took far too long.

“Daniel!” he whispered, leaning forward again as he sat up. “Come now, lad, this is no time for sleeping.”

“Perfect time for sleeping…” Vlad started slightly at the response and Daniel tugged the pillow halfway over one ear before letting it fall again. It was a weak movement, but movement nonetheless, and that was good enough for him.

“There’s a ghost in the room,” he stated nonchalantly. The reaction, admittedly, was almost amusing. The man imagined it would’ve been far faster had he been in normal condition, but as it was Daniel groaned, apparently forcing himself to pry his eyes open. Pushing himself up, he doubled over for a moment, probably having pulled at the stitches, but quickly ignored the pain and stared around the room. Looking back at Vlad he raised one eyebrow and seemed to struggle to get his bearings. 

“W-where?”

“You’re looking at him,” Vlad told him, standing. “Now that you’re awake, however, I’ve got a few questions.”

“You’re kidding me…” With a groan, the boy let himself sink back onto the bed, one hand going shakily to his head. “It’s what, past midnight? I’m going back to sleep--”

“How did they catch you?” Frowning, the patient shifted slightly to peer quizzically at the older halfa, one hand automatically propping his head up.

“Catch me?” he repeated and Vlad rolled his eyes.

“Well you obviously didn’t waltz in on your own. How did they catch you?” Daniel glared at him a moment before shifting again to watch the dark window.

“Why’s that matter?” he muttered. This would have to be taken delicately. Too far, and he’d simply clam up and refuse to say anymore.

“Simply because I share a common goal,” he explained. “I don’t wish to be caught in the next few days, so knowing how they managed to get you will help me avoid whatever strategy it is.” With a snort, the boy pulled his pillow further down, his head sunk halfway into it.

“Right, sure…” Pausing, he finally sighed and glanced over at Vlad again. “Tranquilizers. It was just a stupid move on my part, they-they haven’t gotten all that much better. I just didn’t fly when I had the chance and they hit me.” Eyes narrowed as he added “Like I was just…asking to be caught, right?”

_Stubborn little…_ “How long did they keep you? You vanished for at least a week, and that--”

“They didn’t _keep_ me,” Daniel hissed. “It-it was…” He trailed off, his voice catching in his throat and lifted one hand to swipe impatiently at his eyes. “Forget it, it doesn’t matter.” Vlad grimaced, purposefully forcing his hands to relax.

“I need answers, Daniel.” he told the hybrid, crossing his arms.

“Answers? You want answers, fine.” Pausing, eyes closing for a moment, he shook his head slightly before plowing on. “Maybe. Tucker did it. It’s not garbage, it’s topsoil. To get to the other side. Oh right, almost forgot one…” The boy glared up at him before letting his eyes fall shut. “You’re a Fruit-Loop. I’m sleeping now.” The man sighed heavily, one hand running over his face. He really couldn’t stand teenagers…

“They’re going to find out everything eventually,” he finally stated. “I’ve seen how these people work, and they - or at least their boss - find things even I couldn’tmanage. You’ll have to either get your story straight now or just tell them as much of the truth as they can handle.”

“Or, option C,” This kid really was stubborn…“I could say nothing, let them…let them shout for a while and then once my energy comes back I could just bust out of here. What d-do you expect me to do, tell them how I should be dead? Or just the fact that technically, I _am_?”

“I expect you to cooperate!” Vlad finally snapped, grabbing the railing and leaning over the bed. He felt a small surge of satisfaction as the boy instinctively shrunk back, even though the eyes that glared at him were just as hard. “I brought you here so you could be diagnosed and cured, Daniel, not so you could dodge the doctors at every turn. They’re going to find some things out eventually, and neither of us can do anything to prevent that.  If it helps you get out of here sooner, so be it. I assure you, it wasn’t high on my list of priorities to sit in a hospital room for a few days, but it’s necessary.”

“Why?” the younger halfa shot back immediately. “I don’t see why you’re sticking around. You’d normally just throw me here, stick up the shield and waltz off.”

“Normally, yes. Normally you would be able to get out of it in a few minutes whether there was a shield or not, somehow figuring out a loophole. _Normally_ you have enough energy to shift and aren’t bed-ridden with a gaping wound in your chest.” Red eyes narrowed slightly and seemed to glow brighter. “I’m helping you, child, whether you appreciate it or not!”

“I don’t need help, I’m _fine_!” The room fell silent, each glaring daggers at the other for a while before Vlad finally turned away with obviously forced patience.

“Either way, you are staying here until House makes that call. There’s something more wrong than just that cut, whether you choose to admit it or not.” Resisting the temptation to pull at black hair, the man began pacing the room. “You need help, Daniel, and I intend to see that you get it. Whether you choose to accept it or not is your call, but they can’t do much if you’re constantly dodging questions. They _still_ don’t even know who you are…”

“If I told them my name, they’d call my parents,” he stated bluntly, now carefully watching the far wall. “They’d--I don’t know what they’d do, but I don’t plan on finding out.”

“They’re worried about you; I’m sure, after all this time--”

“No.” Vlad looked around at this, one eyebrow rising. Daniel seemed to be struggling to stay composed, both hands clutching at the pillow he lay on. “They’re not.”

“Surely after more than a week, someone would--”

“I haven’t been gone a week,” the boy snapped and Vlad gave a very slight scowl as he was interrupted again. It vanished, however, once the tirade continued. “I’ve just been sleeping on the couch waiting for _someone_ to do something! Maybe I should’ve left, I don’t know. But I do know they aren’t worried that I am. Should be a real load off their shoulders, I’m sure.” 

“Surely you’re overreacting…”

“Am I, Plasimius?” Wincing as he pushed himself onto one elbow, green eyes narrowed. “Am I overreacting when I notice my own mother cringe every time she looks at me? What about thinking that my parents are afraid of me, afraid to be alone with me for any given time? Is that overreacting?” Vlad’s mouth opened as if to reply, but closed again quickly as he gave the patient an incredulous look. What was the boy ranting about? Was this just some normal teenage paranoia, or had something happened? A possibility came to mind once again, fueled by Daniel’s comments before he had passed out earlier, but the man pushed them away forcefully. _Absurd_ …

“Why would you assume that?” he asked, returning to stand beside the bed. “Your father may be an idiot, but they would have no reason to fear their son.” Daniel didn’t seem to hear him, his mind elsewhere and Vlad mentally rolled his eyes at the boy’s short attention span.

“I tried to tell them…” It was whispered. The older halfa was fairly sure he wasn’t supposed to be listening, but that had never stopped him before. “I _tried_ , why wouldn’t she listen? Why would Phantom even _try_ and say that unless it was true? Ghosts don’t have feelings; after all, it wouldn’t matter to him…” Lowering himself down onto the pillow again, he let his eyes close for a minute before looking back at Vlad with a weary glare. “I gave you some answers. Now I’m sleeping.”

“You barely gave me anything, Daniel, I don’t think anything that vague counts,” the man told him, arms crossing again. “I’ll make you a deal, however. If you answer the one question I have - and no smart comments- I’ll leave you alone for the night.” Daniel seemed to consider the option carefully, frowning before he lifted his head to peer at his rival.

“You’ll let me sleep?” It was like that was the most important thing to him at the moment…

“On my word.”

A deep sigh preceded the reluctant “Fine,” but Vlad figured it was as good as he would get.

“Who did this to you?” the hybrid asked, gesturing at the stitched area. The question seemed expected, but he was hesitant to answer anyway.

“Who do you think, Fruit-Loop?” Daniel growled, letting his head fall back down. “Who else would have the _means_ of doing this?” After a moment he swallowed and Vlad noticed a very slight tremor in his hands. It couldn’t have been from the fever, as any shaking had gone after the temperature dropped. “I tried to tell them who I was; I even tried to shift…not like they had any reason to believe me anyway. I was just a ghost, didn’t matter what a ghost said.”

“ _Who_ , Daniel? Just tell me _who_.” Green eyes narrowed as they glanced up, but dimmed again immediately. The silence was oppressive before he managed to get two words choked out.

“My parents.” His eyes closed then, and Vlad could see tears that the boy was obviously fighting back attempting to spill. “Alright? You satisfied now? I’m _sleeping_.” He fell silent after that, shifting slightly to face the hallway. His temperature was at seventy eight, so at least the fever was going down slowly. Mouth slightly agape, the man stood at the bedside for a few more moments before turning abruptly and crossing to the chair that still sat a few feet away. He sank into it, one hand clutching at black hair as he stared at the floor. 

_His…his_ parents _? How on earth…?_ The hybrid suppressed the urge to swear loudly and glanced up at the teenager who had probably already fallen back asleep. Once again, the thought of Jack doing something similar didn’t seem too far-fetched. He was an imbecile, after all, wouldn’t know a real ghost if it was living under his roof - which, of course, had been proven. Maddie, on the other hand…she would gladly dissect a ghost she caught, the woman was always curious. If a ghost was claiming to be her son, however, as Daniel had said…how could she ignore it? It went against all their research for ghosts to have feelings, to be afraid of people.

The only reason he was still considering the idea was because Vlad knew - somehow - that Daniel wouldn’t lie about it. His pride would never allow it, and to makeaccusations against his parents…He would certainly have to question the boy further, find out the exact situation. For the time being, however, it was far too late for any strenuous thinking like that. Letting his head fall into his hands, he sighed heavily. This whole thing was getting far more complicated than it had seemed in the beginning.

“You always get yourself tangled in the most unlikely situations, Daniel,” Vlad murmured. He was rather surprised to hear a snort from the bed and a soft muttered reply.

“Because I’m doing this on purpose, of course…”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone reminded me that I have this story on this site as well as on FFN. SO a mass update of the next three chapters since I already had them written.
> 
> Thank you for the reminder friend, and I apologize in advance for the wait on chapter 11.

The next morning in the hospital was busy. The ER was overflowing and trauma patients had to be moved to other care units. An massive pile-up on the nearby interstate had set the staff into overdrive, the oncologists even being sent in to patch up a broken arm or concussion. House, of course, was punctuating nearly every step with a muttered curse. Clinic duty was bad enough, but when Cuddy pulled him out to just work on a bunch of people that could be cured by a drunken monkey with a bottle of Motrin…it did nothing for his already-caustic attitude.

"Chase!" he yelled, spotting the blonde Australian as he started down a hallway further along. The younger man stopped, pausing for a moment before he turned.

"What?"

"Any change with the kid?" Chase sighed, his hand automatically tightening around the clipboard he held.

"Danny? No, he's still asleep. I have four surgeries scheduled today, House, I can't—"

"Have the antibiotics had any effect?"

"I don't  _know_. I've been a bit busy with the roll-over victims to test any blood. I've got to go, they've already got the OR set up." He strode away again, managing to call over one shoulder, "His temperature has gone up some last I saw, though. He should be waking up soon, it's nearly eleven." House was left standing in the hallway, frowning as he shifted his weight to lean heavily on the cane in his right hand.

"House!" The sound of his name echoed slightly off the walls, even amongst the chatter of the doctors and patients. Blue eyes widened and, with the air of someone pointedly ignoring summons, he started off as fast as his limp would allow. "Would you stop running?"

"I've got…important doctor type things to attend to!" he told his pursuer loudly. "No time for chit-chat; this place is far too busy for it." The sharp sound of high-heels caught up to him quickly and he didn't even bother glancing down at Cuddy as she fell into step beside him.

"That's exactly my point." The doctor was forced to stop short when she stepped in front of him. Her glare was impressive, something that most people would have trouble holding while having to look up at someone of his height. "We've got a situation here, House. Just because you're in the general area doesn't mean you're helping. How many patients have you actually treated this morning?" House paused, his face one of intense thinking before he shrugged.

"Depends on your definition of treatment," he said simply. "Sent three home because they only had a couple of scrapes and were demanding a room for the night, one was content with just a bandage on his head, a few walked out of the exam room after I  _tried_ to be helpful…"

"House, please." He fell silent, watching with clear impatience as she ran one hand over her face. "If you're not going to help why not just hide in your office like you seem so fond of doing?"

"Because then I wouldn't be able to scream at the children as they passed," the man stated bluntly, his face - as usual - deadly serious. "It's far easier to damage those easily influenced minds when I'm down here with twenty or so running about everywhere you look." Cuddy paused, glancing at a man who bustled by with a muttered apology before she folded her arms and turned back to the scruffy man in front of her.

"Have you called Danny's parents yet?" He simply shrugged, now watching the hallway behind her. "You've got to call them, you know. Now that we know who he is-"

"Yeah, the lawyers will come running after me if I don't tell them." House waved one hand dismissively. "Though it's  _so_ much easier to treat the kids if I don't have parents hovering over them constantly."

"House…"

"Cameron's calling them," he told her, setting off down the hallway again. "I figured if I tried it I'd end up getting yelled at for whatever reason. Besides, she's much better at the sympathy thing." The woman sighed again, matching his lurching pace easily.

"You're the one treating the boy," she reminded him. "Shouldn't his doctor take the effort to inform his parents?"

" _I'm_ not treating him," he clarified. "That's the Three Musketeers.  _I'm_ just the one figuring out what's wrong with the kid. Foreman hooked up the antibiotics, does that mean it's his job?"

Ignoring the all-too-common glare sent at his back, the diagnostician turned abruptly down an adjoining hallway, the familiar rattle of the pill bottle barely heard above the general noise of the hospital. Cuddy restrained another sigh and glanced down as her pager buzzed at her hip. Glancing at the device's screen she winced before turning back to House. He was already at the end of the hall, still keeping the steady limping pace he had started with.

"They better be called!" the dean called after him. "If you're not going to work with the patients at least make sure you haven't killed that kid yet."

"Not promising anything."

* * *

 

Crud, his head  _hurt_. The teenager managed a groan while attempting to lift his hand to his head. It didn't want to get more than an inch off the bed and he soon gave up, letting it fall back down again. It could've been worse, part of his mind reasoned. This had been the first time in this place he had slept without a sedative and his body was still trying to catch up on the fourteen days' worth of lost rest. Grimacing, he managed to pry his eyes halfway open. The overhead light was on again and the blankets had been tucked carefully around him. No wonder it felt so warm.

With a muttered curse, Danny turned his head, noting that his hair was the pure white it had been when he last saw it. He didn't think it had ever been this messy. For whatever reason there seemed to be a default setting when he shifted. It didn't apply to more serious wounds – just his luck – but things like hair and his suit would go back to their original state. Having been in this form for the past two days, however, the normally-neat strands were tangled and sticking up in directions he hadn't assumed possible. Still accustomed to the tight hazmat material, the unfamiliar feeling of the loose hospital gown made him wince and he glanced down at himself. His white-trimmed black suit was still folded neatly on the other side of the room. Stupid hospital…

The room appeared empty for the moment. Managing to push himself up slightly he glanced around in puzzlement. Plasmius was gone - not just invisible, but actually gone. The boy had no idea how he was able to tell but the skill had come in handy quite a few times. Now the only occupants of his room were himself and the monitors still beeping in one corner, informing anyone who cared to listen just how dead he should be.

A second glance around proved that something was out of place, but it was not something he was about to be complaining about. A tray had been pushed to the side of the bed and though the food on it was cold by now, it was still food. Danny poked at the pancake once before tearing into it eagerly. Hospital food wasn't exactly gourmet, but considering he hadn't eaten anything substantial in the last three days rendered that unimportant. If he could manage to get enough energy back, he just might be able to shift and slip out of the place. Flying was out of the question, but there were other ways of traveling a few hundred miles.

The main obstacle in that plan was Plasmius. Where was he, anyway? The remnant of a sausage in one hand, Danny frowned at the thought and looked around his room once more. There was no way of telling if the older halfa had simply gone back home or even if he had left the ghost-shield up. Not without testing it, at least, which was  _not_ something he wanted to try.

The sound of the glass door sliding open made the boy start, looking around quickly. Cameron gave a small smile as she stepped inside, pulling, he was startled to see, a wheelchair behind after her.

"Looks like you've got your appetite back," she commented, glancing over the monitors quickly. "Temperature keeps going back down, though…How're you feeling?"

"Like I'm stuck in a stupid hospital when there's nothing wrong with me," he muttered. "What's the wheelchair for?" The doctor glanced down at it and gave a shrug.

"You. We're getting an MRI to check for any abnormalities in your brain. If that seizure was actually a stroke it could be a lot more serious than just epilepsy -"

"Which I don't have."

"Which is why we're checking." She came to the side of the bed, beginning to disconnect the monitors and leaving wires dangling over the rail. "Are you able to stand?"

"How should I know? You haven't given me a chance to try." Shoving the thick blankets off of himself, Danny sat up with a grimace. The stitches pulled, but at least they appeared to be doing their job. The wound was healing, he could tell…it was just a matter of whether or not it would  _stay_ healed this time. He swung both legs to the side, arms trembling very slightly in their attempt to keep him upright. Pushing himself to his feet the halfa hesitated, resisted the urge to shrug off Cameron's support.

"You'll probably be a little weak," she told him as he sat heavily in the wheelchair. "Tell me if there's any vertigo or anything, alright?" He simply grunted, eyes closing and the woman gave a small chuckle, pushing the patient out into the hall. They were halfway to the elevator before Danny suddenly stiffened, eyes opening as he looked around quickly. He glanced at his left hand quickly, the burn confirming that he was in fact still ghost…so how on earth did he get through the shield? Unless Plasmius had taken it down when he left…

"I'm supposed to ask you all these questions." Cameron was still talking, having missed his sudden tensing. "We need to know if you have any heart or breathing problems, but…" She glanced down at the mess of white hair and laughed. "I don't think those really apply."

"Yeah, that's…sure." The hybrid's hands clenched on the armrests and his mind raced frantically. There was no way there could be a shield over the entire building, so he could, logically, get out if he had enough energy for it. Checking himself over mentally, he cringed as he brushed over the warmth in his chest. It sent off a twinge of pain, not nearly as bad as the first time but still enough to prove that it wouldn't work. That ruled out trying to walk away like some normal kid. If he were out of the shield, though, couldn't he just get out like this? They probably had security, but who would notice a sixteen year old?

The difficult part would be actually finding the entrance…he glanced up at a sign as they passed that pointed to the various departments. Oncology, Radiology, Nephrology…"What?" Danny muttered, earning a puzzled glance from his attendant which he pointedly ignored. "How on earth do you people even know what these  _mean?"_ Cameron gave a shrug, dodging a small group of students that bustled past. The elevator dinged as it opened and they squeezed in among the occupants. There seemed to be a lot of them and everyone looked harried, a few idly tapping at the various clipboards or files they held.

"You just learn it," she told him, ignoring the strange looks her patient was receiving. Danny shot the others a brief glare over one shoulder before turning back to face the door. "Like learning vocabulary or anything else. It's what this place is for, really; this entire place is a teaching hospital."

"That would explain the 'doctors' that look like they haven't even hit puberty…"

"Exactly." There was another soft ding as the doors slid open and they were met with a hallway nearly twice as busy as the previous one. The boy winced at a sudden barrage of talking and the sound of orders shouted over the crowd. He occasionally would glance back, thinking he had seen one of the team members shouting at someone else or tending to a patient in the hallway, but the people moved too quickly to tell. He recognized Dr. Cuddy behind a desk with a phone to her ear and a scowl on her face. She glanced up as they passed and looked as if she were about to ask a question but Cameron slipped quickly back into the crowd. With a quick look back, Danny smirked at a sudden thought.

"She doesn't know about this, does she?"

"We don't usually tell her  _every_ time we try a treatment…" The doctor paused before shrugging lightly. "No, she doesn't. Do you tell your parents any time you step out of the house?" There was an oppressive silence and she looked down, sighing softly. Once again he had suddenly tensed, hands clenching at the armrests. She couldn't see his face, but it was easy enough to imagine the stony look there.

"Not in the slightest," he finally muttered, impatiently pushing a few stray strands of white hair from his face. He could tell she was practically bursting with questions, but the woman simply shrugged again.

"Fair enough." It seemed a bit odd, actually…before the entire team - minus Wilson, who seemed to be there just for the mystery - had been all about getting answers out of him. Now, though, it was like she didn't really care if he told her or not.

It was silent for a while and the boy finally let his eyes close. If he ever did manage to slip away, Admissions would be fairly easy to find. The way this woman was hovering over him now, though, she expected a sudden break for freedom.

"What do you do here, then?" he asked suddenly. She seemed fairly taken aback by his willingness to talk considering their previous attempts at practically beating a sentence out, but to her credit she took it in stride.

"I mainly work with House," she said. "His cases are priority; they are for the entire team. I specialize in immunology, though, so there are rare times that another doctor will call for an opinion…"

"Rare?"

"No one wants to admit they can't figure something out." Cameron chuckled, pushing through a door that read Diagnostic Imaging. "One reason House isn't exactly popular here; he has a habit of finding what everyone else did wrong just by looking at a patient and diagnose them in a few minutes. It's great in the clinic and in his own department, but other doctors tend to get annoyed by it."

"I don't blame them." The surrounding area had suddenly become quiet and he opened his eyes again, glancing around the hallway. "It seemed…busy out there."

"Pileup on the interstate," the doctor explained. "We were closest, so we got practically all of them. The ER had some overflow and people had to be transferred to other departments. It's been a bit hectic this morning. You were originally scheduled for the first slot, but there were a few more urgent ones…"

"I'm not exactly complaining," he told her with an attempted grin. "I got to sleep in for the first time in months."

The room they finally reached wasn't brightly lit. Scanning it carefully for any possible means of escape, the hybrid restrained a sigh when he spotted the viewing window off to one side. Cameron followed his gaze and, mistaking the frown for one of worry, she nodded quickly toward it.

"There'll be at least two of us in there the entire time. We'll be watching during the procedure in case something goes wrong and monitor your vitals…" She cut off as he looked up with a raised brow, shrugging. "Well, we'll be watching. There's a panic button on the inside of the machine and it'll take maybe thirty seconds for someone to get you out if anything happens." Green eyes narrowed as they continued their sweep of the room, then widened suddenly, landing on the large tube-like device on the other side.

"Wait a minute…I have to go in  _that?_ "

* * *

 

Worst part of the job - minus clinic duty, of course - was dealing with frantic parents. House scowled as he stared at the phone in front of him, a file open on the desk to one side. The phone number was highlighted but he was pointedly ignoring it for the moment. He  _hated_ having to call parents. They were bad enough when they were actually here, fretting about little things like lumbar punctures and brain biopsies but on the phone he wasn't able to stare them down and that put him at a disadvantage. Cameron was usually the one to do this sort of thing. The man had been surprised when she offered to take Danny to the MRI, but now he understood why. She was getting crafty…

With a huff, he plucked the phone out of its cradle and glared at it for a moment before quickly punching in the number. There was a short pause and he quickly pulled together at least five different ways of getting the conversation over with fast. At the soft click the doctor took a breath in preparation -

" _The number you dialed is long-distance. Please dial a one in front of the area code."_

"Damn!" Glaring venomously at the offending phone he hung up and pushed the buttons again with as much force as he could muster short of breaking the thing. One hand tapped impatiently at the wooden desk as the ringing echoed in his ear and he was almost relieved when it suddenly cut off.

" _Hello?"_ Well, she certainly didn't sound like a mother whose son had been missing for a few days…

"This is Gregory House," he began without preamble, blue eyes narrowing very slightly as he saw Cameron stop outside the door, a small stack of what he could safely assume were MRI images in one hand. "I work for Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey, and we believe your son is here." There was a short silence and the woman in the hall gave him a pointed look which he ignored.

" _D-Danny?"_ the voice at his ear whispered.  _"In New Jersey? We assumed…"_

"Of course, everyone's kid is perfect." House leaned back in his chair, his left leg propped up on the desk in front of him. His right wouldn't manage the feat without support and that seemed like far too much effort at the moment. "Either way, he's staying here until we fix him and-"

" _Fix him?"_ The woman sounded almost hysteric now.  _"Why? W-what happened?"_

"No idea." He really hated calling parents…glancing up as Cameron let herself in he scowled at the world in general for a moment before returning his attention to ending the conversation. "We're working to find that out. It's part of some law that I call you, so I have. You know where he is and we'll continue treatment like usual until you get here."

" _I don't-"_

"Daniel Fenton, age sixteen," he cut in, glancing down at the file quickly. "Approximately five foot ten, white hair, green eyes and one of the most stubborn kids I've met in a few years. That sound like him?" There was a pause before Mrs. Fenton spoke again, her voice strained.

" _Well, yes…technically, but why-_ " That was good enough.

"I've got to go, someone just went into cardiac arrest. We'll see you once we fix your son." Ignoring the protesting stammers on the other end he hung up quickly. The man let himself lean back as far as the chair would allow before turning to Cameron with a raised brow. "What?"

"Who went into cardiac arrest?" she inquired, arms crossing. He simply shrugged, grabbing the cane that lay to one side and tapping its end against the floor.

"I'm sure someone has. I probably won't be able to get to them on time though, so no worries." As the other doctor rolled her eyes House nodded toward what she held. "What did you find?"

"This is why we never let you call," she muttered before shaking her head and handing him the MRI sheets. "Nothing abnormal that we could see. There was no sign of stroke, so the seizure was probably just epilepsy."

"Unless it wasn't," her boss pointed out as he glanced over the scans.

"Then what would it be?"

"No idea; I was musing. Not every word that comes out of my mouth has to be some brilliant discovery." Pausing to consider the thought, he shrugged again. "Although…"

"Putting your ego aside," she cut in, arms crossing. "What now? We can't really tell if the antibiotics are working unless he has a fever - which, obviously, he doesn't - so what if the kid's just getting worse and no one can spot it until he crashes?" House frowned at this, still holding one scan to the light.

"How was he when you took him in?"

"He seemed better. His speech was back to normal and there were no signs of nausea. I couldn't get a word out of him about himself, but that's to be expected." Blue eyes fixated on the ceiling for a moment as his hand fell back to his side. With a slight grunt, the man swung his leg back to the floor and used the cane in his other hand to push himself to his feet.

"Take him off the antibiotics," he ordered, starting towards the door. Cameron blinked once, taken aback by his sudden departure before turning and following her boss into the hallway.

"Why?" She fell in step beside him easily, hands now in her coat's pockets. House grunted, glancing up at the rooms as they passed.

"Because he's all better, he can go home now," he retorted. "If they're working, he'll get worse and we'll just put them back. If not, the kid's magically getting better by himself and we figure something else out."

"So what, we take him off the medication and wait for him to crash?" Blue eyes turned to her with a bit of a challenge.

"You have anything better?" At the silence that followed the diagnostician nodded shortly, starting off again. "Take him off the antibiotics and keep an eye on the kid. Call me if he gets deader than he is now." Cameron raised one eyebrow and halted, watching as he continued to limp away.

"Where are you going?" she called, allowing a very small surge of satisfaction as he stopped and turned to look at her.

"I'm seeing my therapist," he stated. "Need to work out some daddy issues. Might recommend him to Chase if I start seeing the bright side of life." House turned again, his cane providing a steady muffled rhythm as he walked. Cameron stood for another few moments, fighting back a grin before she too strode away muttering something about wild hunches.

* * *

 

"Great news!" He let his cane rap on the doorframe, causing Wilson to reluctantly look up from the patient he was looking over. "We've found Danny." The other man paused before eyes widened and he half-stood from his chair, ignoring the woman for a moment.

"You-you what?" he stammered, his expression one of reluctant excitement. "House, that's great, but how…?"

"You'd be surprised what a simple school database can do. Just had to convince them that we weren't auditors and they gave us the information needed to track him down." Wilson opened his mouth before blinking and then closed it again with a frown.

"Wait, what school? Danny didn't even graduate…" There was a pause before the older man scoffed softly.

"Oh yes, I forgot that little misconception." House rolled his eyes, arms crossing. "Always jumping to conclusions. Not your brother Danny, he's still MIA. No, we've found a certain Daniel Fenton, who, for the immediate situation, is far more interesting." Wilson blinked once before sitting back down and returning to the injured arm he had been wiping clean.

"Great, so…who's he?" he asked, not bothering to disguise the resentment in his voice.

"Our dead boy." House sat down in one of the exam room's chairs, his right leg stretched out in front of him. "I had to call his parents, Cameron skipped out on it. His mother seemed scared, but not for the right reasons."

"And you're coming to me with this why?"

"You're a people person." Wilson shot him a half-hearted glare.

"House, just because you skip out on clinic duty doesn't mean all of us do. Can't this wait until I'm  _not_ with a patient?"

"This isn't even clinic duty!" his friend told him, cane twirling idly in one hand. Said patient kept shooting him wary glances, but to her credit she remained silent. "Trust me, there are far more interesting things to do than fix a couple of boo-boos on people who could do fine with a single painkiller."

"House…"

"You know I'm right." He spotted a rather indignant look from woman and scoffed. "Oh please, don't get 'easily offended' on me here. He's an oncologist, he should be out there telling babies they have…sickle-cell or something."

"That's not even a cancer!"

"Well it's more interesting than this, isn't it?" Wilson sighed heavily, fastening the wrap with a pin.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hankel," he murmured, quickly signing a slip of paper. "You can pick up the antibacterial at the pharmacy and come back if there's any sign of infection, alright?" She gave a quick nod and slipped off the examining table, hurrying out the door while shooting an indignant glare at House. The brown-haired man got to his feet to follow, stopping short when he found a cane across the doorframe.

"She sounded scared," House said, ignoring the exasperated glare he received. "But it wasn't like she was afraid for him…almost like she was afraid of what we might find out."

"What, that he's basically dead?" Giving up all efforts to leave, the oncologist sat back down on the rolling chair. "I can see where that might be a bit…odd to tell someone, but unless they're really as paranoid about the government as Danny said-"

"She hesitated too long." The cane lowering again with a dull thump, he watched the opposite wall carefully. "I gave her the description and it was like she had to remember what her own son looked like."

"Is it possible it's the wrong Danny?" Wilson asked, resting his elbows on his knees. "I mean there's bound to be a couple of them in Illinois, it could just be coincidence."

"No, he's the right one. Amity Park is a small town, there's no way he would know the name of the school unless he's lived there. That name he gave us at the beginning, Danny Phantom? Some alleged 'ghost hero' there, but there's maybe three other people that have heard about him. If he doesn't live there now, he definitely did." Looking back at the other man, House blinked once. "Is everyone around here eating a heaping serving of weird for breakfast?"

"Why?"

"Chase was eager to get to the OR, Cameron managed to weasel her way out of being sympathetic, and now," He lifted his cane to point accusingly at Wilson who stared at the rubber tip with an almost resigned expression, "I come in here and make you think your dear brother is back only to snatch the idea away and you're not even annoyed?" His friend hesitated before sighing, one hand rising in a fairly defeated gesture.

"It's not like it's a shock," he said. "Something I'd expect from you, to be honest. The  _really_ weird part is the fact I put up with it." The doctor got to his feet again, hands going to the pockets of his coat. "Now really, House, I've actually got a job to do here…" House paused, frowning before he smacked the cane across the door again and looked up, meeting the exasperated glare evenly.

"Help me talk to the kid."

"W-wha…why would you need me to help?" Wilson demanded. "You've got an entire team; isn't that what they're for?"

"He doesn't trust the team." The diagnostician stood, leaning on the chair as his cane was still blocking the exit. "He knows they report to me, but he also knows you don't. You might be able to get him to talk about things that actually matter." One eyebrow rose in his direction as the other man folded both arms across his chest.

"So you expect me to gain his trust…and then completely disregard it and rat him out to you?" There was a short silence before House nodded smartly.

"Exactly. Now c'mon," He led the way out of the exam room never looking back to make sure Wilson followed. "I want to get this kid cured before his parents get here." After a moment's hesitation the oncologist gave a weary sigh, trudging after the taller man while one hand rubbed his face. His own words to Danny seemed to echo in his head and he nearly groaned.

" _But I think you know how it goes. It's your best friend, what are you going to do?"_

House was an expert at dodging authority, especially Cuddy, so neither of them was asked to do anything the entire trek back to the diagnostic ward. Cameron was already in the room when they arrived, readjusting the IV. The bag of antibiotics lay on a tray to one side and though Wilson shot his friend a questioning look it was ignored.

Danny blinked a bit wearily as they entered, pushing himself up slightly. His green eyes seemed a bit brighter than they had been before and the boy now seemed simply tired rather than delirious.

"She told me you almost never talk to patients," he told the scruffy doctor bluntly, nodding at Cameron. "Half of them don't even know who it was that did the diagnosing. Why, then, do you keep bugging me?"

"You're far more interesting than the rest of them," House replied, leaning on the chair that stood nearby. "Besides, my team would never ask the right questions. They wouldn't be able to tell when you're lying through your teeth."

"I haven't lied-"

"Really?" The bottle of pills rattled slightly in his pocket as he rolled it in one hand, blue eyes fixed on the patient. "So tell me, what kind of odd truth is it when you take on the name of a fake superhero that's supposedly also a ghost?" His gaze lifted slightly to look up at the ceiling as if trying intently to remember something. "Let's see if this rings any bells, shall we? Daniel Sean Fenton, born March 21st, 1991. Currently a junior at Casper High in Amity Park, Illinois. Parents are Jack and Madeline Fenton, apparently experts in the 'paranormal'. One sister, Jasmine Fenton, who is attending Southern Illinois University, studying to get a degree in psychology."

There was an oppressive silence as he finished and the man looked back again with a smirk. Danny had paled considerably and his eyes were wider than seemed to be humanly possible. There was a muscle working in his jaw and he seemed to be fighting the urge to bolt. Swallowing, the boy actually flinched back when his doctor leaned in slightly.

"No more lies, kid," House stated gruffly. "We've called your parents. We're going to diagnose this, you'll go home and everything will be back to relative normalcy, alright?" Straightening, he put his weight back on the cane and glanced quickly at the other two. "You can take over. I'm pretty sure someone just went into cardiac arrest."

The room was almost silent as he exited, glass door making its usual soft swishing noise when it closed behind him. The only disturbance was the soft beeping of the monitors, one of which Cameron glanced at quickly. It gave a quiet tone, the temperature reading rising one degree to eighty.


	8. Chapter 8

The room was quiet as the two doctors stood uneasily to the side while the patient continued to stare at the door through which House had just escaped. They had called his  _parents?_ Danny wouldn't have believed it, would've assumed it was some mind-game of House's if the man hadn't just spouted off the details of every close family member. There was no way that could be a wild hunch. How had they managed to find him? Perhaps Phantom could be dug up, if one was willing to search through the small-town newspapers, but if they assumed he was lying about that why did they stay in Amity Park? It had seemed like a reasonable plan at the time; if he was already marked as a chronic liar any town he mentioned should have been ignored. Now, apparently, they had his information and - according to House - were willing to use it.

"This isnot good," the boy managed to groan, clutching his hair with both hands. "Oh man, this is  _so_ not good…" There was a short pause before Cameron picked up a folder that lay on the bedside table, clearing her throat.

"I need to file the scans," she told them, ignoring the indignant look Wilson gave her. "Foreman should be in after a while to change your IV."

"Cameron-" Wilson barely managed her name before he was cut off.

"Stay with him a while, would you?" Judging by the expression on the woman's face, he didn't have much of a choice. "Call someone if there's any major change. We're not really sure how fast the antibiotics will be flushed out, given his apparent immunity to sedatives." She was out the door the next second leaving the other two in silence. It took a while for the oncologist to break it, clearing his throat.

"They took the antibiotics off, did they?" he muttered. "Typical. I'm sure House has some crazy hunch now." Sinking into the chair beside the bed, he sighed, leaning heavily on one armrest. "Are you feeling any better?"

"House sent you in here, didn't he?" Danny was satisfied by the brief flash of shock Wilson was unable to restrain before it fell away again.

"What makes you say that?"

"Please, I may be sixteen but I'm not an idiot." The halfa forced himself to lie back again, although every part of him longed to ignore his lack of energy and flee. "He knows I won't talk to him so he sends you. My friends did it all the time."

"What are they like?" Well, that subject change wasn't obvious at all…"You mentioned them before. You sound close."  _Like you would know…_ Honestly, it was only the fact Wilson was involved with the hospital that made Danny cling to his usual distrustfulness. He appeared to be a well-meaning person. From what he had heard about oncologists, part of their job requirements included being friendly and sympathetic. All the more reason the man did not seem the type to be friends with House.

"Sure," he finally said with an attempted shrug. "We're close. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Not a lot, really." At least he was honest about it. Danny glanced over at his current 'guard' and was surprised to see a smile. "It was more of a question to distract you."

"From what?"

"All this." Wilson waved vaguely at the room in general. "The hospital, the doctors…I deal with kids who have to be in here for months at a time. Occasional distractions never hurt. If I were in your shoes I would hate hospitals just as much as you do." The boy blinked, snappy retort lost. He didn't have the best track record for judging people - brief memories of Paulina reminded him of that - but there was something about this doctor that just begging to be trusted. As if seeing his hesitance, Wilson grinned, pulling the front his white coat open slightly. "No bugs, don't worry. I'm not here to spy on you, despite what House seems to think."

"So he did send you in here."

"Technically, yes. Since you don't trust him - or anyone working for him - he assumed you would let something slip around me so I could report it back to him." The boy's eyebrows rose at that.

"Will you?" There was a very slight hesitation, but the answer was determined enough.

"No. Unless it could potentially affect your medical history the confidentiality law extends to me as well. As long as this isn't some rare form of cancer no one has heard of, I won't be the one treating you." The oncologist shrugged, leaning back in the chair with his arms crossed. "Right now I'm simply trying to keep you from making a break for the window. It's locked, anyway."

He caught that? Danny's eyes widened as he focused on the doctor again. How could someone catch that short of a glance? The halfa had looked toward the window once, vaguely wondering how far he could manage to fly if he actually got out. This guy was perceptive which didn't bode well for someone who had kept a secret by sheer luck alone the past two years.

"I'm not going to try," he finally muttered. "Besides, I don't exactly feel up to flying home at the moment." Wilson chuckled - at least he didn't take that too seriously - and shook his head.

"I'd hope not. I don't want to find out you're in the ER with a broken neck." There was a short silence before he continued, hands folding in his lap. "Tell me something, Danny." After a second or so without elaboration the boy raised one eyebrow.

"Tell you what?"

"Something. Anything, really. Your favorite football team, anywhere you've traveled in the last few months…even details about the weirdoes at school. I'm not too particular." At the suspicious glare he received, the man raised one hand in apparent surrender. "I'm not here to spy; right now I'm wasting time so it seems like I was spying and keeping an eye on you until Foreman gets here."

"How do I know that?" Danny muttered, both hands gripping the blanket as he fought the urge to shove it off. His 'caretaker' simply shrugged.

"You don't, honestly. You just have to trust me." The two held eye contact - one gaze suspicious and one nearly sympathetic - for a while until the boy glanced away.

"One condition," he said quietly and Wilson blinked.

"What would that be?"

"Let me get out of this stupid blanket. Unless they want me to pass out again or something…"  _Tread carefully, Fenton. Too much information and he could start asking the wrong questions._

"You kept saying it was too hot," the doctor said, more to himself than anyone else. "With a temperature that low, though, it doesn't seem possible – hypothermia can cause feelings of warmth, but they always are said to be a comfortable heat."

"I can't explain it medically." Danny was watching the wall, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just…last time I was kept under the thing for a while I ended up unconscious. Somehow I doubt they're aiming for that again."

"It's definitely not on the list of priorities." The man considered it for a moment, frowning. "I'm sure the others have noticed the symptoms; they contradict themselves." He finally sighed, shaking his head. "I'll have to keep an eye on your vitals, but I suppose—" The electric blanket was shoved to the foot of the bed in an instant and Danny let his head fall back onto the pillow with a grunt.

"We're the, uh…the Ravens," he muttered. "My school. About 300 people, I think. I'm a—a junior now. Favorite subject is anything to do with science. I guess my parents are to blame for that." The boy paused, vaguely realizing that he hadn't spoken of his parents in passing since he got to the hospital. Wilson didn't seem to take notice, however, and Danny forced himself to continue. "Sam and Tucker are the friends I mentioned before. Tuck's the—the computer geek of the century and Sam is some mixture of Goth and ultra-recyclo-vegetarian."

Random facts came much easier than actual conversation. The oncologist seemed used to listening to that sort of rambling without judgment. It was to be expected, really, with the patients he must get. Though there was still a nagging suspicion in the back of his head, it seemed easier to talk to this man than any of the others. Wilson had let him have the blanket off, too, which was a major benefit. Though there were still some slightly slurred words or stumbling as he spoke, it wasn't getting worse.

The doctor glanced up at the monitors often and frowned slightly when the temperature reading refused to change. He made no comment on it but watched the numbers closely. It was at least fifteen minutes before he spoke again, as Danny had to pause to think of what thought process he was trying to follow.

"Can I get some medical-type questions in without being shunned?" At the raised brow he managed a small smile. "I'm not going to go running to House immediately afterward, don't worry. It's more…curiosity, to be honest. Unless there's anything that will help diagnose you I won't mention it to the team." The pause was shorter than even Danny expected before he nodded.

"Fine." Wilson leaned forward again, glancing once up at the monitors before returning his attention to the patient.

"You have incredibly odd symptoms, Danny." Start with the obvious, typically. "In all regards, you should be dead. I'm sure you know that by now." After a short hesitation the halfa nodded.

"All the people that kept ranting about it was a pretty good clue, yeah."

"How long has it been going on?"

"What, being dead?" Wilson chuckled, shaking his head.

"You're obviously  _not_ dead," he said. "Unless you're some solid ghost or a hallucination that everyone can see." Luckily Danny's slight tensing went unnoticed and the boy forced himself to relax a second later.  _He was joking…he was just joking._  "I was referring more to the actual symptoms. You ever notice them before you were brought in?"

"N-not really," Danny muttered. "I mean, maybe a few times, but never for this long." Mixing in truth with lies seemed to work better than thinking up a totally different story. He had never been Phantom for this long before - true - and his 'symptoms' were only there as a ghost.

"And you didn't mention them to anyone when they did show up?"

"I told Sam and Tucker, but we agreed to…I dunno, just let them go away on their own." That had been before they found out the true extent of his powers, back in the very beginning. Back when all three of them would freak out every time he started to fall through the floor. Things like that seemed menial now. He met the doctor's eyes briefly and managed a small, sheepish grin. "We were sorta trying to avoid this whole situation."

"What about your hand?" They both glanced down at the burn simultaneously and Danny resisted the urge to clench the hand shut.

"Like I said, electrical burn." The sight of it still creeped him out slightly. All of his other injuries healed quickly, but even after three years this one refused to go away. Managing to pull his gaze away from the scarring, he shrugged. "It looks a lot worse than it is, trust me." Wilson didn't seem to buy the nonchalance.

"It takes a lot of electricity to cause something like that," he pointed out. "Was that a direct contact with the metal?"How was he supposed to know? The Portal wasn't exactly a normal piece of machinery.

"I dunno, it was…" How much should he really tell him? Granted, there wasn't much of a chance an oncologist from New Jersey knew much about ghost hunting equipment. "It was a button on the inside of one of the machines. Whatever genius designed it decided the 'on' switch should be right in the middle and-" He grimaced, his hand finally closing at the memory.

_The pain hit a moment later, as blinding as the light had been. It tore through his entire body and even his hair felt like it was burning. His hands clenched, and only the gloves prevented his nails from drawing blood -_

"It turned on when I hit it. I just caught the initial charge." There was a heavy silence, and Danny kept his eyes on the far wall.

"You said that was about a month ago, right?" What did they do, post his records on a bulletin board so everyone could get up-to-date?

"Yeah, about. Jazz fixed up the actual burn." Might as well stick to the story…Wilson grunted, leaning back in the chair and peering out the window absently.

"It would have been better to see a doctor," he murmured. The tone wasn't scolding, though. It was more like he was considering various options. "I suppose that can't be helped now. Were there any noticeable side effects from that?"  _Side effects? You could say that._

"Not really, no."  _Except for the ghost powers and the full-time hero gig that came with it._  Another pause stretched out and Danny glanced back toward the man quickly. There was obviously a question brewing but he seemed hesitant to voice it. Didn't take too long for him to get over that, though.

"The machine was…you said it was built by some inventors you know, right?"

"Yeah." These people were far too good at remembering stupid details.

"Cameron said that…your parents are inventors?" The tension in the room was suddenly thicker than it had been since House had left.  _Stupid, how could you let that slip…?_ The hybrid felt his eyes narrow almost compulsively and his left hand clenched at his side.

"Yeah. They are."  _Don't think about them. Don't go back there…_ Wilson seemed to be waiting for an elaboration but didn't appear too bothered when one never came. He simply nodded, glancing at his watch and pushing himself to his feet.

"Foreman should be in soon," he said. "I have to meet a patient in a few minutes. Despite what House seems to think, cancer doesn't suddenly go away just because I'm helping him." He offered a quick smile - one that was barely noticed, let alone returned - and turned toward the door. "Just buzz a nurse if you need anything." It seemed odd, having him walk out without pressing to get answers like the others might. Wilson seemed content just to…help. Surrounded by a bunch of overly-nosey doctors, it was an odd relief to talk to someone who wasn't searching for every detail in his life. What if he could just-

 _Don't be stupid, Fenton. He's still part of the hospital. It would be pointless,_ stupid.  _Don't bring it up._

"Dr. Wilson?" The oncologist stopped at the door, turning with one eyebrow raised. There was a brief silence when Danny mentally punched himself a few times before relenting. "Do you, uh…do you believe in ghosts?" Wilson blinked once, frowning.

"Ghosts? What would bring that about?"

"It's just…" The boy ran one hand compulsively over his neck, glancing away. "The whole hospital thing, you know? It makes you think."

"I don't give it much thought," he admitted, arms crossing. "However…I don't think so, no."

"But if there were-"

"Danny, trust me." The halfa swallowed any other words, looking back again. "We'll figure this out. House is the best diagnostician in the country. You'll get cured and you won't have to think about ghosts." Another small smile was offered, though it was more hesitant that before. "You'll be fine."

It was quiet as Wilson stepped out into the hallway and the door slid shut behind him. After a moment Danny let his head fall back onto the pillow with a groan.  _Won't have to think about ghosts…don't I wish?_

This might be more complicated than he thought.

* * *

It had taken long enough to get things in order again. Even a day or so without careful monitoring might give too much leeway to the vermin that held positions under him. People often said the mayor was only a figurehead, someone for the lesser posts to manipulate. That certainly wasn't the case in Amity Park. Vlad Masters was  _not_ someone to be manipulated; he took far greater joy in playing the 'sappy mayor' role and, in turn, managing to twist the other's plans without them even realizing anything had happened. An odd thing, politics. It wasn't often he would put things on hold, especially not for someone as tiring as Daniel was…but these were not ordinary circumstances.

It took a good deal of convincing - and a small amount of overshadowing - to be 'allowed' past the front desk. Apparently, with his odd symptoms, only family would be permitted to visit the boy. They didn't want to risk stressing him out or some other such nonsense. Ironic, considering the sight of his family would be the worst thing for Daniel now.

Vlad scowled briefly at the thought before regaining his 'business' face again, hands kept deep in the pockets of his coat as he strode briskly down the hallway. He caught a few odd glances, but most people ignored the determined businessman and went about their duties.  _All the better for them…idiots, everyone._ They had no idea who was paying a visit to this obscure little teaching hospital. Not too surprising - the woman running the front desk had seemed to suddenly recognize his name as she typed it in, but he had been gone before she could mention it. Some might have found it curious to see how familiar he seemed with the layout of the hospital, but he had walked these hallways before. Not in the visible plane, of course; it was far easier to learn the layout of a place without being asked some rather awkward questions.

The man paused as he passed by one open door, leaning back to peer in more closely. After a moment the doctor inside looked up and raised a brow at him.

"Can I help you, sir?" Vlad had to restrain a smirk. One of the two doctors that had stitched Daniel when that wound first tore open…and, judging by the team's continued ignorance, he was a smart man.

"Pardon the intrusion," he began smoothly, hands clasped behind his back. "I'm looking for Dr. House. Is he in today?" The doctor snorted, pulling off the gloves he wore as he stepped toward the door. Dr. Thorton, as far as the nametag read.

"He could be. He doesn't seem to follow the schedule very regularly. I'd check in his office first. It's down the hall - door is labeled." The halfa nodded before smiling slightly.

"You seem rather harried." Dr. Thorton shrugged, pulling a clipboard from the wall.

"Complicated patients, annoying superiors, not enough pay…normal hospital employment."

"Complicated patients?" The man nodded absently, glancing over the notes on the clipboard and scribbling a new one down before returning it to its hook.

"We get a lot of them. Dr. House specializes in the obscure. This most recent is a bit…weirder than the rest." The soft buzzing made them both glance down and Thorton pulled out his pager with a grimace, reading the message quickly. "I apologize, I have to go." Vlad nodded once, watching the doctor stride off down the hall before he continued in the opposite direction.

They hadn't gotten any new information - or, at least, none the other doctors had heard about. He was fairly certain a human-ghost hybrid would be big news, especially with one of the men who had seen the signature green of ectoplasm rather than normal blood.  _Leverage. That's all it really takes._ Most people responded well when their general well-being was threatened. It hadn't taken much with those two; seeing a ghost materialize out of thin air was enough of a shock to begin with. Truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure why he had gone to such lengths to keep them quiet. It had been Daniel's muttered words that seemed to strike a chord;  _"I go down, you're going down with me…"_  Usually neither bothered with many threats of exposure as it would simply backfire on the other right away. If the boy were found out, though, he would have no qualms about digging up whatever proof he happened to have and revealing that his city's mayor also happened to be half-ghost.

"Of  _course_ it doesn't make any sense. If it did he wouldn't be here in the first place." The voice, while faint, was familiar. One of the doctors working for House - Foreman, by the sound of it. Vlad paused, attempting to pinpoint the source of the sound before quickening his stride. As he approached the door that led to some type of conference room, he slipped out of the visible plane. It was far easier to listen when there was no visible proof that someone was there  _to_ listen. The man halted outside, pushing the door open with one shoulder to let the sound out better.

"He doesn't have a fever." By the way the Australian man was gesturing as he paced, it was a safe guess that he had made this point a few times already. "Weird case or not, infections cause fevers. Something you learn in Biology!"

"There were bacteria in the blood," Foreman said, glancing at the other two quickly as if inviting them to agree with him. "That can point to quite a few things, but all of them are infections. We can't rule it out just because he's missing one symptom. The kid doesn't have a  _heartbeat_ but he's obviously alive. He would get an infection without one of the most obvious clues; he's definitely not trying to make this easy for us." Cameron was nodding absently though she stopped when Chase caught her eye. After a short silence in which House watched his cane twirl between his fingers and the rest let their gazes wander, the woman sat forward suddenly with a frown.

"If his immune system was repressed - no, I'm not just saying this because I'm immunologist House, get that look off your face - there wouldn't be anything to fight an infection. A disease that attacks the white blood cells and antibodies would weaken it enough to let something through and there might not be enough of a defense to really spike a fever."

"You're talking an autoimmune?" She glanced at Chase with a shrug.

"Something like it. If the white blood cells aren't able to replenish fast enough there's not much of an immune system to speak of. Anything that got in after that would have free reign." Almost simultaneously they looked to House who took a moment before taking his eyes off of his cane.

"Someone say something about lunch?" The three managed to keep their faces blank - an impressive feat, Vlad noted - and the diagnostician sighed. "An infection and possible repressed immune system? The question is, what do we treat first?"

"Just put him back on antibiotics," Chase suggested. "Until we figure out exactly what bacteria it is, it can't hurt to continue what we were doing already."

"Have you figured out what that discoloring in his blood was yet?" The surgeon blinked once before crossing his arms.

"We've sent it to a few labs but nothing's come up. No one's heard of it."

"The green is irrelevant." Vlad decided to make his presence known then, becoming visible a second before he pushed open the door and stepped inside. The doctors looked around, everyone but House wearing a look of surprise.

"And you are?" Foreman inquired, his eyebrows rising. The hybrid ignored the question, keeping his eyes on House.

"It's irrelevant," he repeated. "Not something people have figured out, but the 'discoloration', as you call it, is very common where the boy lives." After a slight hesitation he held up one of his arms. "You can check me if you like; I've got it as well, and I assure you I'm not bedridden at the moment." He held eye contact with the scruffy man before House lifted a brow himself.

"Cuddy's tastes are usually a lot better than this," he observed. "I knew she was hiring for looks these days, but I hadn't realized her standards were so low." Vlad chose to ignore that comment, remaining silent until House relented and spoke again. "So are you some rich uncle of a patient that's donated a few million here or do you know the way around our security?"

"I'm looking for Daniel, actually. I was told he was a patient of a certain Gregory House." This seemed to catch them off-guard and Cameron shot Chase a glance, the Aussie simply shrugging in bewilderment.

"Mr. Fenton?" the woman inquired, looking him over with a fair amount of disbelief. "You…got here quickly."  _Fenton? Cheese-logs, how did they get that name?_ They certainly hadn't been aware of the boy's identity when he left. Unless Daniel outright told them - which would have been an idiotic move, even for him - these four were far sharper than they came across. If they had his name, that meant they would have already called - _His parents…well that just made things a tad more complicated._

"I have a house nearby," he explained. "My name is Vlad Masters; the Fentons requested I look after Daniel until they arrive. I'm a…godfather of sorts." A silence met these words. House was the first to move, letting his cane meet the floor with a  _thunk_ before he limped across the room to an adjoining door which led - Vlad could safely guess - into his office. As he passed the businessman he gave a curt nod to follow, not glancing back once to be sure his request was met. Vlad followed, hands in his pockets, watching closely as the doctor sunk heavily into a chair behind his desk and pulled a file toward the front. He flipped it open, scanned the page, then picked up the phone and dialed a number quickly. The Fenton's number. After a pause he leaned back, one leg lifting to rest on the desktop.

"Mrs. Fenton?" A slight frown that was quickly wiped away. "Jazmine, this is Dr. House; I'm treating your brother." He seemed to sigh inwardly, eyes lifting to the ceiling. "Your parents home? … No. Of course not. Considering you are a legal adult, however, I can go through you and save us all some time and hassle. It's - no, he hasn't died. No, we're not -" Vlad could hear the young woman's voice rising even from where he stood and restrained a smirk as House held the phone slightly away from his ear.

"Perhaps I should talk to her," he suggested smoothly, stepping forward to rest his hands on the desk. "The poor girl must be hysterical." House didn't seem too reluctant as he shoved the phone at the 'visitor' and rubbed his ear briefly.  _Turn on the charm, Plasmius._

"Jazmine?"

" _Can he hear us?"_ Smart girl, really. He smiled, seating himself in one of the two chairs that faced the desk.

"Of course not, my dear."

" _I swear, Plasmius, I don't know what you've done but it will be the_ last  _thing you do-"_

"I can assure you, I have no idea what happened." Judging by the hesitation, she had picked up on the very slight snarl between the lines;  _it wasn't me, you fool._

" _So why are you there?"_ The college student had it far easier; she didn't have to make her side of the conversation look normal for a paranoid doctor that was eying him carefully.

"Yes, your parents informed me of the delays. I'm surprised they didn't tell you; Daniel needs someone here until his family arrives, wouldn't you agree?" She was breathing rather heavily. It was almost endearing, her sudden flares of temper when her little brother was involved.

" _I will bring an entire army to New Jersey if I have to,"_ she finally growled.  _"You will not touch him, you understand me? I know all about you, Plasmius, and I'm sure the town would be very interested to learn that their mayor is one of the ghosts who enjoys attacking so frequently."_

"Of course, Jazmine. I'm fairly certain that Dr. House has to hear that from you himself, for legal purposes. I'll see you when you fly in." He handed the phone back without another word, smiling at the suspicious man still staring at him. House put the earpiece to his ear a bit warily, grunting to let her know he was in custody of the device. One eyebrow lifted for a moment but he picked up a pen and scribbled something quickly onto the file in front of him.

"Just remember that you can't sue us now," he muttered. "I'll tell Danny you're on the way. Maybe it'll get him to talk more." He hung up quickly, glancing down at the file before turning to Vlad with a slight frown. " _Uncle_ Vlad?" The halfa shrugged.

"Children; what can you do?"

"I can think of a few things." House pushed himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he pushed through the door again and back into the meeting room. "Now what were you saying about that green?"


	9. Chapter 9

_There's nothing wrong with you, Fenton. You're fine. They're all overreacting._

Despite the constant repetition of that rhetoric, the boy wasn't consoled. The room had been silent since Dr. Wilson left and Danny had been staring up at the ceiling blankly for nearly an hour. His fever, though it hadn't gotten worse, was still far too high for his liking and the nausea had started to return. Six degrees above average - though he only knew his average because of Plasmius - could be potentially deadly for normal people. He assumed the ghost body was far more resilient than his human one and, for the first time, was almost glad he was stuck in it. Would the symptoms remain if he were able to change back? Maybe the fever would lower to simply match the severity rather than the actual numbers. Then again, it could just stay the same and completely wipe out his brain cells the moment he shifted…that certainly wasn't a comforting thought.

"I need to get out of here," Danny growled to himself, running one hand over his face and pausing to glare at the IV in his wrist. "I have to get home…" Did he actually  _want_  to go home? At least here there weren't any ghosts to fight off; he didn't have to walk in on quickly silenced conversations or to ignore the wary looks shot at his back. Here, at least, no one was afraid of him.  _They're just trying to stick you with needles and fix something that isn't there_. Did he seriously think there wasn't anything wrong anymore? Every time the thought came up the boy would beat it away and insist he was fine. There was a logical part of his mind, however, that seemed to be whispering something else, and that there had to be a reason he was bedridden. He couldn't change; he didn't have the energy for a power that usually was second nature and took no more effort than walking across his room. If he couldn't change, it was almost scary to think of what his Wail, that normally came close to knocking him out, would do…

Green eyes shot a wary glance at the monitor to the side. It still remained stubbornly at 80, but it wasn't reassuring in the slightest. Looking from the doctor's perspective he could easily see where their worry was coming from, just as six degrees above average was bad, eighteen below average wasn't something that could be taken lightly. From what little he knew of the subject, it was definitely enough to kill someone.  _Which is why they think you should be dead; you technically are._

Well, maybe not dead. Half-dead, if one were to look very far into it. After all, he didn't stay a ghost. He could change back, shift between the two planes of existence.  _But if I can't change back now…_

"You've got a visitor, kid."

Danny's head jerked around at the voice and he stared incredulously at House who was leaning against the doorframe in his usual infuriating posture of total disinterest.

"Who…?" He knew they had called his parents so it wouldn't surprise him if Jazz came. There was no way, however, that she could have gotten from Illinois to New Jersey that quickly. House, though, seemed a bit more sullen than usual and simply stepped aside to let the 'visitor' in. The doctor's blue eyes were slightly narrowed and Danny continued watching him for a moment before shifting his attention to the newcomer. If he had been breathing it would have hitched in his throat at the sight. As it was he simply stared blankly for a second before he felt himself scowl. Plasmius – or Masters, as he technically appeared now – didn't seem fazed in the slightest and kept a calm, almost sympathetic look in place.

"Daniel –"

"What's  _he_  doing here?" The question was pointedly directed towards House who was watching the two carefully. With a shrug the man stepped inside and slid the door shut, leaning heavily on his cane.

"I'd ask him," he said simply. "Your sister gave her approval so legally I can't do much to keep him out." Apparently the diagnostician hadn't gotten a good first impression of Vlad which wasn't too surprising. Two alpha males weren't about to be best friends within a few minutes. They had called Jazz…?

"Why would she give approval?" Danny growled, still refusing to look at the white-haired man. "He's…" What would he say? 'He's an archenemy ever since I refused to leave my dad and become his experiment of a son'? That would only raise more questions which was something he was looking to avoid. They knew enough already. After a short silence House raised his eyebrows and glanced at newcomer almost suspiciously.

"Old wounds, I'm guessing." It was more of a statement than anything else and was met with a small sigh.

"We haven't always gotten along," Vlad admitted, his hands clasped behind his back. "I imagine my coming isn't the best surprise. However…"

"Understatement of the century," the boy pointed out. "What are you doing here?" There was another short and tense silence before Vlad shot a quick glance at House.

"Could we have a few minutes?" he asked quietly. The epitome of a businessman, his outward demeanour was calm. Danny knew better, however; after dealing with the older halfa for a few years he could sense an angry lecture - some might call it a rant - waiting to rise above the surface. The doctor didn't seem to buy the act any more than his patient did and sent a skeptical look between the two.

"Jasmine seemed pleased to have you here," he told Vlad, his voice a low growl that Danny had come to associate with the 'I won't believe a word you say anyway' attitude. "Are there differing opinions?"

"You could say that." Danny was momentarily glad his eyes were already green; he knew they would have switched colors by now, even if he were in his human form. "It might prove to be bad for my mental health if he stays."

"Now Daniel, I realize things have been…tense with the family…"

"No joke."

"It's not the ideal situation." Vlad's patience was starting to wear thin. It was doubtful House could see it, but years of fighting against the older halfa had given Danny the ability to read his moods. "Having you in here in the first place…" The man's acting was impressive, really. It was probably due to all the practice he got with various manipulations and company takeovers. After a pause he looked over at the doctor as if asking for some sort of assistance. Family matters were not House's forte and the thought of having to deal with them seemed to be bad enough.

"It's all good and legal, kid," he finally said, straightening and pulling the door open again. "Unless he attacks you, I can't do much." Blue eyes locked on Masters again, narrowing suddenly as he added, "Dr. Chase is working on your blood sample now. Whether you end up making amends or not, I expect to go over the results with you once we have them." Turning on one heel he strode into the hallway - or, at least, as much of a stride as he could manage - without a backwards glance, snapping at a passing nurse to "make sure he keeps that damn blanket on, will you?"

Plasmius at least waited until the door had shut before letting his face relax into the more common weary scowl, on the boy had no problem meeting evenly.

"You're not making this any easier, Daniel." His voice was carefully controlled, probably to hold back the shouting that had been building up for the past few days. "House is already suspicious about…everything, really, and with this charade-"

"What charade?" Danny snapped, pushing himself onto both elbows. "You were expecting a warm welcome? Just because you don't have to hide now doesn't change anything."

"It changes quite a lot, actually." The man stepped forward, leaning on the bed railing and glancing over one shoulder toward the door briefly. "In a place full of adults, all with a good deal of education and training, do you really think the word of a teenager will get very far?"

"It's not my fault they don't listen…"

"No, perhaps not, but you aren't exactly giving them anything to listen to." Plasmius paused before he sank into the chair with a sigh and ran one hand over his hair. "They don't know you, Daniel," he said quietly. "They don't know what you are, and without that knowledge…well, you see how far that blanket is getting them." It was silent for a moment and Danny glanced at the wad of blanket that still lay at the foot of his bed with a frown.

"What's your point?" he finally asked, sinking back onto the pillow with a wince. "Are you just going to overshadow everyone until they figure it out?"

"I'm not looking for anyone to 'figure it out'. That would be counterproductive for both of us." That, at least, sounded like the businessman Danny was used to. "I don't know what sort of connections this hospital has and there's no point risking such things unless we're left with no other option."

"What do you mean we?" the boy snapped suddenly, green eyes narrowing even further. "I don't remember inviting you to help." There was the glare again. That glare, at least, was normal.

"I'm helping whether you approve or not, Daniel..."

"Yeah, you always do, don't you? It'd be easier for everyone if you just left me alone."

Plasmius looked about ready to snap right back at him but stopped himself and let out a weary sigh.

"I know you don't care for me, but you cannot deny that I may be the only person right now that might figure something out. If you have any brilliant plans, please, let me know." Danny kept his glare steady for a few moments more before he glanced away again and the grip on his sheets tightened.

"What's wrong with me, then?" he muttered. The older halfa paused before letting out a quick breath.

"I don't know, Daniel…but I plan on finding out. Where you go after this is still a questionable matter, but for now we must prioritize." Grey eyes kept flickering toward the door even though it was likely he would hear someone coming before they came into view. "They keep treating symptoms that aren't even symptoms and can't look past those to what is actually be going wrong." Danny shot another look at his vital readings – what few there were, anyway – and gave a grim chuckle.

"Not a big deal that I'm not breathing, but it's…the fact I can't make myself alive again is a problem. I can see their point." He turned back to Plasmius again and managed to make his glare slightly less venomous. "Just for the record, this does  _not_ make us allies in any form of the word. Once I'm out of here…"

"Yes, yes," the man dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I'm sure you'll make sure I pay for something or other. We'll cover that later." Danny forced a breath – a conscious effort now – and shot a glance at the door himself.

"What do you have in mind?"

* * *

It was surprising how comfortable the floor could be sometimes. It worked to House's advantage in a few ways, the low position allowed him to prop his leg up on the office chair, he could easily toss the oversized tennis ball in the air, and it served as an excellent way to hide from view of the hallway.

The ball made soft thunks every time it hit the crook of the cane. It had taken a lot of practice to manage the trick lying down, but the man often found himself with opportunities to master such things. Whether they were allowed or not was another matter entirely, but he would insist it was beneficial to his work. The steady rhythm helped straighten out thoughts and right now he  _really_ needed think straight.

Cases often stumped him. House would never openly admit that to anyone else, but it was the main reason cases came to him in the first place; there was something about them that had stumped every doctor before him and, as such, his department never got anything simple. Still, this particular diagnosis was proving to be the most bizarre he had seen. Problems with breathing were common. Heart murmurs or weak pulses weren't anything exceedingly special. Someone who both lacked a pulse entirely and wasn't breathing at all, however, was something else entirely.

"Blood pressure without a pulse," House muttered to himself, watching as the ball fell back to the cane again. "Hypothermic with symptoms of hyperthermia and traces of bacteria in the blood…"

"Don't forget the green substance that is, apparently, environmental."

The man didn't bother looking up at the voice but he let the ball fall to the floor and watched as it rolled under the desk. After a moment he gave a resigned sigh and pushed himself onto his elbows to glare absently at the door. Chase didn't seem at all surprised at his boss's choice of resting place and simply set the clipboard he held down on the desktop.

"I checked Masters' blood sample. Nothing extensive, but it's easy enough to see under a microscope –"

"How did you know I was here?" House cut in with an attempt at a slight pout. The Australian doctor paused before sighing.

"You're not very creative in your hiding places," he pointed out. "Next time try the burn ward. Haven't been down there in a month or so." There was a short silence before Chase shrugged. "Just thought you should know; Masters had the exact same stuff Danny did, minus the bacteria, of course." He was turning to leave again when House spoke up.

"Any idea what it is?" Chase paused and then shrugged again.

"Not yet. I've sent samples to a few other labs, but it could be days before they get anything back, and that's if we're lucky. No one recognizes the description so far." He glanced over his shoulder once with what could have been an amused smirk. "I'd find somewhere better to hide if you want to avoid Cuddy. I've got a surgery in a half hour so I won't be covering for you." House watched as the younger man strode out before he let himself lie flat again.

"Thanks," he muttered. "That's helpful." If the stuff in the blood was environmental, it might not even be a symptom…or Masters was about to crash without knowing it. Either way, he wasn't left with a whole lot of change in the problem. There was still the small detail that the kid should be dead, andit was a little more pressing. It seemed like it was only a matter of time before Danny's body realized it wasn't operating correctly – or operating at all for that matter – and just shut down completely.

All the symptoms were either impossible or contradictory. There was a gaping wound in the boy's chest that looked anything but accidental, and, though the stitches were holding, House had a feeling they hadn't seen the last of the problems with it. Danny should be dead, he wasn't. He should be more willing to cooperate now that they had information on him. If anything, he was more difficult. And then there was his 'guardian'…Masters seemed like another case in of himself. There was something about him that just screamed not to be trusted, but at the same time he seemed like the only one who might be able to talk a little sense into the boy. If he had the same substance in his blood as Danny did, it either meant it  _was_ environmental like he claimed or pointed to something more serious – namely the same problem Danny had just waiting to emerge.

"Test his vitals," House told himself, eyes narrowing. "See if there's any signs of it…maybe find a baseline, at the least." Suddenly empowered by an actual task, the man pushed himself to his feet and, leaning heavily on the cane as his leg tried to get used to moving again, limped out into the hallway.

* * *

Snow always made the town quiet. It wasn't uncommon for there to be almost no life on the streets after a storm, and such was the case now. Amity Park wasn't completely devoid of movement, though. There were occasional snow plows trying to get some asphalt cleared and a few workers fixing power lines and, though rarely, a pair of teenagers simply walking up and down the sidewalks with their eyes constantly scanning the skies.

"I hate snow." The complaint got a slightly weary glare and a sigh from the girl who shrugged her coat further up.

"I realize that, Tucker. You've survived this long, you'll last another half hour."

"I'm not so sure," he muttered, arms crossed tightly across his chest as he peered up at a rooftop. "I'm warm-blooded but this weather is made for penguins, not people." He got a light punch on one shoulder for that and winced overdramatically. "Come on, Sam, you have to know this is crazy."

"Maybe, but it's necessary," she reminded him. "If you want the town to be overrun, feel free to head on home." Tucker muttered something under his breath but his pace didn't slow any as they turned a corner. After a short silence Sam sighed again, turning her gaze to the ground for a moment. "Look, we've already had to take care of two of the things, and with Danny missing…"

"We should be looking for him, not taking over for neighborhood watch!" The boy kept his eyes carefully averted as she looked at him, but his scowl didn't quite hide the underlying worry she had gotten so used to seeing these days. Worrying wasn't normal for him, but under the circumstances it was to be expected.

"If he doesn't want to be found, we're not going to find him," Sam reminded him quietly. "You saw how he was; somehow I doubt he's going to want to go out for a movie any time soon."

"We've found him before," Tucker muttered. "The Boo-merang is still keyed in on his signal, right? We could just –"

"We're not going to find him until he wants to be found, Tucker." He seemed about to argue and then simply let out a breath, pushing his hands into his coat's pockets.

"I just can't believe they would…" The words trailed off and Sam shot him a glance which he still pointedly avoided. "I mean, I didn't even think they'd  _catch_ him, not after all this time. Why would…?" He shook his head mutely and looked back up at the sky again. "We shouldn't have to be doing this, this patrolling."

"I know." Sam folded her arms tightly across her chest as a gust of wind sent a small flurry of snow whirling around them. She noticed a slight catch in her voice and cleared her throat quickly in an attempt to control it. "Well, no, I don't know…All I know is he needs us now, even if that means taking care of the ghosts while he's gone." The dark-skinned boy sighed, his breath clouding the air in front of him for a moment, before managing a slight grin.

"Could really do with that ghost sense now, huh? That's the only reason  _he_ isn't out on the streets every single day." Sam scoffed as she shook her head, her own grin a little strained.

"Yeah, I'd just love to be half ghost and have all that responsibility on top of everything else. I'll tell you one thing; I don't ever envy Danny his powers."

"Ya know, that reminds me," Tucker suddenly laughed, glancing over at his friend, "there was this one time when you got sick and Desiree –"

A horn honking behind them cut his words off and the two teenagers paused to look around. The snow that had been pushed to the side of the road crunched as the car pulled up to the sidewalk and it was immediately recognizable by a rather large sticker of Jack Fenton's face on the side window. Tucker grinned as the window rolled down, kicking some of the snow to the side in order to step closer.

"You really need to figure out how to get that sticker off, Jazz," he informed the driver. "It's bad enough driving around  _here_ with it, but at school –"

"We need to talk," she interrupted and the other two exchanged glances a little warily. "It's…it's freezing out there; can you get in?" They obliged quickly, Sam managing to shove Tucker out of the way to claim the front seat. The sudden warm air sent a chill through her as her body adjusted to it and Jazz quickly rolled the window back up. She paused for a moment, looking poised to drive again, before her hands fell to her lap and the young woman sunk back into her seat. "We found him." There was a short silence before Tucker leaned forward with a frown.

"Found…?"

"Danny, we found Danny." Jazz's hands were gripping her knees tightly enough to whiten the knuckles and she seemed to be keeping herself under control by sheer willpower. "He's…" She trailed off, looking at a loss for words.

"Where is he, Jazz?" Sam finally asked. The older girl hesitated before swallowing.

"New Jersey." Her voice was a croak and she coughed quickly in an attempt to cover it up before pressing on. "New Jersey, he's in a hospital." The car was silent for a moment before Tucker made a strained noise of disbelief.

"A hospital?" he managed hoarsely. "Why is he…what happened?"

"I don't know," Jazz told him, her head shaking almost unconsciously. "They didn't say, but this Doctor House called Mom. I researched him," the others exchanged a glance; of course she had, Jazz researched anything she could, "he's one of the best diagnosticians in the country. Handles all of these medical mysteries no one else can solve."

"Why would he be treating Danny?" Sam asked softly. "I mean, if he just got hurt…"

"Mom said…when the doctor was describing Danny to her he mentioned white hair and green eyes." The college student looked between them and seemed nearly on the verge of tears. "We all know he wouldn't let himself get examined like that willingly. I think for some reason he's…he's stuck as a ghost or something." Tucker shook his head mutely and fell back again to lean his head against the back seat.

"That should mean…shouldn't he be able to get back? Just go intangible and fly out?" Jazz shook her head, swallowing once more.

"There's…something else," she told them. "Doctor House called again to get legal permission for…Plasmius is there." A heavy silence settled over the car. Tucker was staring straight forward into the snow and Sam continued to stare at Jazz as if willing her to suddenly laugh, assure them it was all some joke.

"Plasmius…like, Vlad Masters, Plasmius?" the boy finally asked. He glanced between them warily and his eyes narrowed when Jazz nodded mutely. "What – what's he doing there?"

"I don't know," the older girl muttered. "I have no idea, but I had to….they were getting legal permission for him to act as Danny's guardian temporarily. He claims he doesn't know what happened, but we know how much his word is worth."

"And you let him?" Sam demanded. "Why would you let him? Can't they just…" She paused and then let out a soft breath. "They can't kick him out…he'd just come back as a ghost."

"Exactly. Besides that, he's the only one there who knows what Danny is…or at least I hope he is." Jazz put her face in her hands, head shaking slowly. "He seemed…if he wanted to expose Danny he didn't have to do it in New Jersey. I don't think he wants anyone finding out, but it's not like Plasmius is the most predictable."

"Well we have to get down there!" Sam had one hand on the door handle as if prepared to go sprinting across several states right then. "We have to stop…whatever he's planning, we have to stop it!"

"No." The two teenagers looked a little shocked at that word and Jazz hesitated a moment as she pulled at red hair nervously. "No, you two have to stay here. Mom and Dad and I are going; we're going to find out what's happening and…just figure out where to go from there. We can't afford to have you come too."

"Why not?" Tucker questioned. "We're his best friends, Jazz, we have to help –"

"Exactly. You have to help, and right now that means doing what you've been doing the past week." She looked at them both briefly, her gaze stern. "With all of us gone, we can't leave the town unprotected. Those two government goons never do any good, and you're the only other ones who know anything about ghosts. If something happens, we have to have someone here to take care of it."

"What about Valerie?" Sam demanded. "Valerie's good, she can –"

"She attacks anything that moves; you know that." Jazz sounded like she had been going over the options for hours herself and shook her head again. "She's good, but you won't send an army after that box guy. You know what you're doing." The boy bit his lip and turned to stare out the window again. Sam had taken to staring at her lap carefully and swallowed.

"We can't…we can't just leave him down there," she muttered, but her tone sounded resigned. Jazz sighed.

"I'll keep you two updated, but…it'll be hard enough with my parents after…" She trailed off shakily, blinking a few times. "Danny will understand why you can't make it. He'd go on one of his guilt trips if he thought the town was unsafe."

"I get it," Sam said quietly. "I don't have to like it, but I get it." After a moment of silence she forced a breath and looked back up. "When are you leaving?"

"This evening." Jazz let her hands fall back to the steering wheel and picked at a spot of peeling cover absently. "We're taking the Speeder to avoid as much snow as possible…it still might take a while with the storm. It'd be faster to just go through the Ghost Zone but the only one who actually knows their way around there is…" She managed a quick, humorless chuckle but it ended in a rather choked sob. "Never thought I'd  _want_ to go through the Ghost Zone." Sam put a hesitant hand on the young woman's shoulder as the first few tears leaked out.

"He'll be okay, Jazz," she said. Her voice suggested she was trying to convince herself as much as she was Danny's sister, but it held steady. "He's gotten through worse than this before."

"You kidding?" Tucker interjected with an attempt at his usual grin. "After Pariah, a few doctors will be a piece of cake." The girls both shot him weary glares but after a moment Sam managed a smile.

"He'll be fine," she repeated stubbornly. "He's Danny; he has to be."


	10. Chapter 10

As far as plans went, it wasn't exactly an elaborate one. It seemed a little ironic that Plasmius, who had plotted the takeover of the entire city, had failed to come up with something greater than "don't get caught." Well, technically it was a little more elaborate than that, but that was about what the entire thing boiled down to - somehow figure out what exactly was medically wrong while not actually letting the doctors know they were treating someone who was actually dead. _Half dead,_ Danny kept reminding himself.  _Only half dead._

Other than his time in the Ghost Zone, he had never spent this much time in his ghost form before, and it was starting to get a little surreal. Even being incapable of flying or phasing, knowing he didn't actually need to breathe and knowing his heart was sitting useless in his chest was just strange. Normally he didn't have time to think about things like that. He would change, take care of whatever needed taking care of, and then change back again. This time it had been, what, almost two full days?

Two days since he'd gone to the one place he probably should have avoided, simply because he had no idea what else to do. Home had been out of the question, and after Sam and Tucker had found out what had happened...he wasn't fond of the looks he caught them giving him when he turned away. Hindsight was always 20/20, though, and looking back now, ending up where he knew Plasmius would find him hadn't been one of his smartest moves ever.

He was stuck here now, though. Stuck in a hospital surrounded by people who didn't know he was technically half dead already, and apparently with some sort of disease or something that no one could figure out. So they kept telling him, at least. While the logical part of him realized that there had to be  _something_ wrong, the slightly-desperate part blatantly refused to admit it. At this point, though, he couldn't exactly go anywhere, so the main priority in his mind was to keep anyone from jumping to completely accurate conclusions that he just might be a ghost.

"They're going to find the ectoplasm in your blood too, you know," Danny pointed out needlessly. He was laying back again, eyes closed. Vlad's appearance had gotten his adrenaline spiked but now that was dying down and he could feel the weariness setting in. "Just gonna be another mystery to solve."

"It bought time. Unless someone actually finds your parent's research, it's doubtful that will solve much." Vlad paused his incessant pacing around the room, looking back toward the bed. "They'll want more blood for testing. I don't suppose you have the strength to pull that switch again?"

Danny considered that a moment, remembering the effort it had taken last time to change just his arm human again, and shook his head. "Not a chance."

"Well we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. A little abnormality in blood is one thing, but not having blood at all…" The man cut himself off, turning toward the door suddenly. It took a moment to realize why, but Danny picked up on the sound of the uneven limp that came with House just before he appeared behind the glass.

House was talking the moment the door started sliding open. "I need vitals."

"You have vitals," Danny muttered. "They keep beeping at me saying I'm dead, remember?"

"Not yours." House waved him off impatiently, zeroing in on Masters. "His."

"Why his?"

"That blood sample got me curious," he said. "You had the same spots of green, just like you said. Only problem is, no one knows what it actually is."

Masters had folded his arms, considering the doctor carefully. "No one has ever completely figured it out. It's common and doesn't have any real effects, so most have put it out of their minds."

"See, that's a problem," House told him. "Doctor Chase has been asking around, sending the reports to other labs in the area. No one's ever heard of anything like it. You'd think if it had been tested before there would be _someone_  who remembered this unsolvable puzzle."

The small room went quiet and Danny found himself watching the two men as they had some kind of staring contest, a small battle of wills. Finally Masters nodded briskly.

"If this will help your diagnosis, I won't protest. I'd like to stay here, however, if possible."

House considered that and then scoffed, eyes rolling briefly. "Whatever. Sit." When that was met with silence he let out a frustrated breath and tacked on an impatient, " _Please._ "

Masters paused a little while longer, probably just out of spite, before pulling the chair out away from the bed a little and settling into it. House had started rifling through the cart in the other corner of the room. He pulled the rolling stool over, dropping the small bundle of supplies onto the bedside table and hooking his cane on the nearest IV stand before sitting.

"What about you?" he asked Danny, stethoscope in his ears and eyes on his watch. "Any changes?"

"Not really." Danny let his eyes close again, trying to ignore the steady beeping at his side. "Just tired. Bit of a headache is all."

"A headache can be something." He could hear the hiss of the blood pressure cuff in the pause. "Stabbing, throbbing, what?"

"Just…just a headache, I dunno."

"How long?"

"Five minutes maybe."

House seemed to consider that before grunting. "Tell me if it gets worse. No idea what's a symptom with you."

They went quiet again. House took his tests, wrote down the results, Masters simply watched, and Danny tried to convince himself to stay awake. He wasn't sure it really mattered – people always said bed-rest was important, right? – but with Masters around he didn't like the idea of losing focus. The headache wasn't bad, but it was persistent and he couldn't remember if he'd had one before this. Maybe it was just the added stress of having someone who had tried to expose him more than once. Maybe it was that stupid beeping constantly in his ear.

It wasn't just the headache, though. There was heaviness in his arm that hadn't been there before and it couldn't be blamed on the blankets. It wasn't even pain – just a sudden weight, like someone had piled sandbags along the length of the arm. _Focus._

That didn't seem to be working very well, though. He managed to get his eyes open and had to blink a few times to get them to focus. Even then there was a blurring around the edges of things. He couldn't quite dispel it and green eyes narrowed, glancing around the room quickly. That wasn't normal. Maybe it could be blamed on exhaustion or something and he was hesitant to mention it if only due to the continued paranoia around the doctors. Still, Masters was right in that they did have to at least figure out what was wrong, and if anything could be a symptom…

"'m not feer –" He hesitated, grimacing quickly and trying to convince his mouth to work properly. House looked up with a frown, pausing in his work.

"Alright there, kid?"

There was definitely not 'alright' at this point – he couldn't even tell what it was, but things felt more off than they had before. House seemed to say something else, standing and moving to the side of the bed, but the words wouldn't fully process. Danny tried a few more words himself before giving up when he could tell they weren't coming out properly and tried to focus on keeping the blurring vision from spreading.

_Something's wrong. Something's wrong, what is he saying, why isn't he doing anything…_

He didn't manage to get past that thought. Danny was vaguely aware of the small penlight being shone into one eye before he found he couldn't fight the growing pressure and blacked out.

Vlad was on his feet a second later, staring between the boy and his doctor. "What happened?"

House ignored him, swearing under his breath and jabbing at a button on the side of the bed. He limped quickly to the door, leaning out and catching the attention of the first nurse in sight. "We need to get him to a MRI, now - override any appointments, I need a straight shot."

"What happened?" Vlad repeated, a little louder this time. Again he was ignored; House began pushing the chair and stool out of the way as the nurse hurried in, pulling a cart behind her.

"We need you to move."

"Not until I know what's going on."

The doctor rounded on him, meeting the glare evenly. "Unless they lied to me in medical school, he's stroking. Now get out of the way and let me do my job."

* * *

"Alright so now we've got a stroke. What's that mean?"

"Is it possible that last black-out was a stroke too? If they're happening regularly…"

"That last one was because of the hypothermia – there weren't any other symptoms."

House let the words float by, his head resting against the window frame as he stared out toward the steadily darkening sky. Chase had just wrapped up his surgery so for the moment it was just Cameron and Foreman shooting ideas back and forth with little rhyme or reason.

"The symptoms are all over the board," Foreman said, rubbing a hand over his head. " _Something_ here has to add up."

"Yes, he obviously has some disease." House pushed himself upright again, moving to face the white board and looking over the words on it again. All of the presented symptoms were scrawled out on it, staring back at him as if daring him to try and piece things together. "That's usually why people come here."

"At least we could clear up the clot quickly enough," Cameron noted. "As long as it stays that way…"

"Until we figure out the cause he could get another stroke in an hour, there's no way of – what are you doing?"

House glanced around, pausing for a moment in his stubborn erasing of the marker on the board before finishing with a flourish, leaving the surface blank.

"We need another approach," the man said. "All of the doctor stuff isn't working."

The other two stared at him for a few moments before Foreman snorted.

"Alright, let's send him to the air marshals. I'm sure they'll be able to figure it out instead."

House sent him a quick unimpressed look and tossed the eraser down again. "Start from scratch. New perspective. You aren't doctors, you're…zookeepers picking up elephant poop. What would you think of this?"

That got another couple seconds of blank staring. It was cut off when the door opened and Chase walked in, glancing around the room before sinking into the nearest chair.

"Heard the dead kid stroked. What's going on?"

"Apparently we're zookeepers," Cameron told him. The blond man frowned just as House hit his cane against the white board stand twice.

"C'mon people, give me something. No medical school, no training – what's going on with this kid?"

"He's not breathing," Foreman said. "With no heartbeat and temperatures that cold, he should be dead."

"Obviously. But he's not. Then what?"

Chase let out a quick breath, tipping his chair back and considering the empty board. "The zombie apocalypse has started and we have the undead among us." That earned him a few incredulous looks and his hands lifted briefly, a little defensively.

"Conspiracy theory," Cameron offered. "Government android or something."

"So we need an IT guy, not a doctor." Foreman scoffed, sitting back and folding his arms. "He's got a medical problem, we need a medical answer. It's got to add up somehow."

"Well unless we add another symptom or two that suddenly ties everything together…"

"Or take a few away," Chase pointed out. "There haven't been any seizures since that first one."

"That doesn't mean it just loses relevance. Do we ignore the stroke because there's only been one?"

House once again was quiet, staring across the room into the hallway. The team's words sunk in just enough to process, but eventually they ended up all meshing into one with no real indication as to who was actually speaking.

"He should be dead," he muttered during a lull. "So why isn't he?"

That was met with silence. House glanced between the other three, waiting for a sudden revelation that never came. After a lengthy pause he went back to the window. The sun had set already and the taller building cast long shadows over the courtyard and field. It had been a long day, especially with the overflow that morning, and right now no one was getting anywhere.

"How's he holding up now?" the man asked.

"Still out, but other than the stroke…" Cameron shrugged once. "No worse than a few hours ago. Masters refuses to leave, so he's got extra supervision"

House nodded once briskly. "Go home."

His team glanced between each other a moment. Chase looked almost indignant.

"I just got in here," he pointed out.

"We're not getting anything done," House said, turning away and heading for the door. "Today's been hell. The kid isn't going anywhere and you're useless to me without sleep. Go home."

He was in the hallway before anyone could reply and in the elevator before any of them caught up. One floor down, though, the solitude was interrupted. Wilson looked slightly surprised when he stepped on with a few nurses and went to stand next to House, arms folded over the folders he held.

"I take it you're not going to the clinic."

"I'm going home."

"That didn't take long." The oncologist let out a quick breath, almost a laugh. "How's it going with Masters hovering?"

"He's a pain in the ass who questions every single thing we do." House paused and then shrugged one shoulder. "So, y'know, like most annoying guardians."

Wilson nodded, glancing up at the floor number as the elevator stopped to let off two of the nurses. "He's got connections, you know. And a lot of money."

"So?"

"So…" He sighed, adjusting his grip on the folders and shrugging. "You're a brilliant doctor. That's why he's here in the first place. You're also…impossible." House tried for an offended look which Wilson pointedly ignored. "Masters could sue this hospital for all it's worth over one discolored pill and win. I'm just saying, for this case…just cut down on the impossible a little."

The elevator dinged softly as it reached the lobby and Wilson was halfway out before he paused, glancing back. House hadn't moved; his brow was furrowed, eyes locked on nothing.

"You coming?" Wilson asked. It took a second for the other man to blink and then he reached out to jab his cane at the upper floor button again.

"I've got work to do." Wilson stepped back a little as the doors started sliding shut. "Got some impossible to cut down on."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> First of all a warning; this is severely under-edited. I’ve looked over it many times, I know I probably missed a few awkward wording places and everything, but for now…it’s going up. If I catch something later I’ll edit it, but it won’t be anything to change the overall happenings of the chapter, just little details.
> 
> So I apologize in advance if this isn’t the best. I wanted to get the events rolling again, especially because I actually know how this story is ending. I have an ending in mind, and that is a major thing for me. The fact that I’m updating this a few days before the one year mark makes me inordinately proud.
> 
> So yeah. I’m extremely glad I got this thing done. I’m very excited that I have a game plan. This story will get done, and I’m so grateful for all of you who have stuck with me this long.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The next morning was cloudy, a chill promising snow biting through the wind. Occasional drizzles of rain came down, though none cold enough to count as sleet yet. It was gloomy, dark weather, and so no one was entirely surprised to find House in an unusually chipper mood.

“Let me guess,” Chase said as he came in, both hands tight around a steaming syrofoam cup, “they’ve discovered the cure for everything, we’re all out of a job, and you’re thrilled.”

House barely glanced up from the board he was writing on – and pointedly blocking – though he did wave a hand in the general direction of the door. “And where would you be without my shining personality every morning?”

“I think I’d manage alright, actually…”

“You’ve been here all night, haven’t you?” Foreman cut in, and House did look around then with something of a pout that did nothing to hide the somewhat-darker circles under his eyes.

“But none of my _friends_ have a curfew.” When that was met with silence and three equally unimpressed expressions he let out a huff of breath, turning back to his board. “This case, this dead kid – what’s wrong with it?”

His team exchanged glances and after a pause Cameron leaned back in her chair with a weary shrug.

“You mean apart from the obvious?"

“Yes, yes,” an impatient marker was waved in her direction quickly, “and _what_ is the obvious?”

“The kid is alive and he shouldn’t be,” Chase said. “Should be dead, but still here with something wrong. None of it’s possible, yet here we are trying to cure him.”

“Lovely choice of wording.” House didn’t turn immediately, and after a few moments glanced over his shoulder. “Hang on, I was planning on the dramatic reveal but you got the keyword before I finished…” That got an eye-roll and the office fell silent save the slight squeaking of the marker. Once he seemed satisfied, House turned as dramatically as the leg would allow to reveal his work. “I wanted columns, it seemed much more professional.”

Foreman leaned forward a little squinting. “Is that supposed to be a corpse?”

“Technically a zombie,” House corrected, gesturing at the crude drawing in one corner. “Know your mythology. Now,” he lifted his cane to tap at the left column, “symptoms. No breathing, no heartbeat, blood pressure despite that, and signs that point to hypothermia despite a freezing temperature. What do they have in common?”

“They’re why he should be dead,” Cameron said, glancing at Chase quickly. “Not…technically possible.”

“Precisely.” The cane hit the right side with a soft tap. “And these – incision that hasn’t fully healed, bacteria in the blood, at least one stroke, decent amount of confusion this morning, and potential signs of a very high fever.”

“He doesn’t _have_ a fever,” Foreman argued. “We haven’t gotten his temperature much above eighty this entire time. And of course the kid’s confused, he just stroked last night."

“That’s not the point, that’s –” House let his cane fall, eyes sweeping the room as if he might find someone more cooperative lurking in the shadows. “Look, all the stuff on the left, that’s impossible, you said so yourself. So ignore it. It can’t happen, it isn’t happening.” He paced forward a few steps and gave a sweeping gesture at the three of them. “So what do the ones that _are_ happening say?”

The team stared at him. A few nurses went jogging by the glass door in the silence before Foreman broke it; “Are you on Morphine right now?”

House let out an impatient noise, head falling back as he turned to limp toward his office before spinning around again. “You wanna check my arms? I’m _fine_. This kid is obviously not, and we’re –”

“Oh hell…” Three sets of eyes immediately snapped to Chase, but his stayed locked on the board, narrowing slightly. “Has there been any bleeding?”

“Nurse said there was some in the urine this morning.”

Cameron and Foreman exchanged glances as Chase leaned back in his chair, looking almost impressed.

“It does fit.”

* * *

 

Danny wasn’t sure he’d been fully conscious all morning. He’d managed to struggle to the bathroom once with the nurse’s help, pointedly ignoring her concerned looks the whole time, but there were some gaps where he wasn’t sure if he’d fallen back asleep and decided not to think too hard about it.

Masters was still there, but he seemed equally lost. It would have been satisfying if the situation didn’t suck so much, seeing the older man without any smart comebacks or clever plans. Instead he just paced a lot, something Danny also tried to ignore as much as possible.

They’d told him he’d had a stroke. He knew the basics of what that meant, but it was almost a foreign concept overall. That was something that happened to old people sometimes, not to someone his age, not even with everything else that was happening. Unfortunately the stroke seemed to have beaten down his defenses and wiped out any of his remaining stubborn pain tolerance that he’d built up over the years. Now everything was noticeable – the ache in his stomach and more than a few joints, a general sore feeling that he couldn’t actually pinpoint, and the pounding in his head that was only a comfort in that it assured him blood was at least getting up there now.

Talking took a little extra concentration, but at least he could still talk. Apparently none of his brain had been cut off from the blood long enough to be damaged – a perk of stroking in a hospital, he supposed – and there weren’t any lasting effects.

It still sucked.

Danny took a break from his study of the ceiling, turning his head enough to watch Masters turn at the wall and start back to the opposite one as he had been doing for the past ten minutes. It was still strange seeing him this concerned over anything besides his sport teams or something, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to think of it. The headache wasn’t helping.

“They called my parents,” he managed after a little effort. The way Masters looked over, it was all too likely that he’d brought that up before, but Danny certainly couldn’t remember the conversation if he had. “You know that, right?”

“I’m aware,” Masters said, seeming to direct it at the floor. His posture didn’t change much, but It would have been slightly surprising if it had.

Danny hesitated, partially to make sure he was wording things correctly and partially just because he was wary to ask in the first place. “What are you going to do?”

That at least got the man to look up, his steps pausing for a brief moment before they resumed as before. “Well heavens knows I would _like_ to…” One hand clenched at his side before a slow breath relaxed it again, and he shook his head. “That remains to be seen. Given the circumstances these things have to be handled…delicately.”

“Meaning you can’t disintegrate anyone in the middle of a hospital.”

“As much as I would like to.”

Danny tried for some kind of laugh, ended up wincing when it pulled at his stiches a little, and pressed his head further back into the pillow. Master’s pacing was slower now, and if it had been anyone else Danny might have called it uncertain.

“Do you _want_ anything done?” the man asked. It was an unexpected question, and a difficult one given how slow Danny’s thoughts still were. “Legal or…otherwise?”

He didn’t answer at first. It was a good thing for the time being that his heart was still, since any changes in rate would have been easily picked up by the monitors. There was no breath to hitch remembering the sheen of all of the steel instruments, no heartrate to spike thinking about that damn scalpel, his mother’s voice cold and analytical above him…

Danny also remembered the constant wariness afterwards, enough that it could probably be called fear. His sister trying to bridge the gap somehow, not trying for her usual optimism because they both knew it wasn’t exactly welcome at that point.

He couldn’t help but flinch away from them, practically from the thought of them still. He also knew they were terrified of him these days, maybe just because of what he was, maybe because they thought he might retaliate somehow.

And he’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed through his mind once or twice. He just took a little bit of comfort in the fact that it still repulsed him every time.

“They didn’t know,” he finally said quietly, clearing his throat quickly and looking up as he repeated it. “They didn’t know it was me.”

“Daniel, they _were_ the ones – ”

“I’m not saying it isn’t their fault. But they didn’t know.”

Masters looked skeptical. It took him a little while to move again, and it was with a heavy sigh. “So you’re saying we do nothing.”

“Not now. Especially not here, these people have nothing to do with it.” Danny attempted a scathing look and gave it up a second later. “And I’m not sure when it became _we_.”

That got at least a small snort and the man seemed to consciously make his shoulders relax. “Well I am legally your guardian for the time being. I’d say that gives me some amount of say in things.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that.”

They lapsed back into a somewhat uneasy silence. As much as he wasn’t fond of talking to anyone right now, when it stopped Danny was left with nothing else to distract him. His body was constantly reminding him of how exhausted he was, how much everything seemed to ache all at once, and his eyes kept being drawn to the black scarring on his left hand. Even after a few days with the glove off, it wasn’t something he was used to seeing in his peripheral, and he caught himself staring at it on more than one occasion.

A group rushing by with a cart pulled his attention for a few seconds, and he realized that Tucker’s dislike of hospitals really made a lot more sense these days.

“What d’you think happens…” The boy paused, pulling in what he hoped was a steady breath despite it not actually being necessary. “When we die, y’know? Our kind? What happens?”

Masters stopped by the window, turning to consider him, his look almost pitying. After a moment he sighed, coming back to the chair by the bed and sinking into it. “I don’t know, Daniel.” Well at least he didn’t try to avoid the question entirely. “As far as I’ve found, we remain the only two.”

Danny managed a bit of a nod, eyes closing. “Think it makes a difference which form it happens in?”

“I can’t exactly say I’ve tested it.”

“Guess not,” the boy scoffed, his face twisting briefly into a grimace. “But as much as I hate to admit you were right…”

“You aren’t dying,” Masters told him firmly, then seemed to consider the words before amending it; “You’re not going to die. As odd as your situation is, there is a medical explanation for whatever is wrong now. They just have to find it.”

“Oh I _love_ coming in at the perfect dramatic moment.” House’s voice made them both jump, though Danny couldn’t do much more than flinch back into the pillow. The doctor stood at the door, his usual entourage in tow, and an extremely satisfied look on his face. “I mean that was practically cinematic, someone should be filming this or something.”

“Get on with it, House,” Foreman told him, receiving an affronted look in return.

“Let me have a moment, come on.” House did shove the door the rest of the way open, ignored Master’s slight glare, and limped directly to the beside, a small penlight in hand.

“What’re you –” Danny gave a rather weak attempt to shield his eyes from the light, but when that proved useless he let his arm fall again and blinked blearily up at the face hovering over his. “What are you looking for?”

“Just proving a point.” The light clicked off. House’s focus moved to the boy’s arms, picking up the nearest and turning it over, peering carefully at the pale skin. “Any specifically painful spots?”

“Other than the obvious?” Danny asked, gesturing vaguely at his chest with his free hand. “No.”

The doctor didn’t seem to actually be paying much mind to that; his focus was intent on Danny’s unscarred hand, and his expression abruptly switched to one of triumph as he turned back to his team. “Proof for the doubters.”

“Proof for what, precisely?” Masters cut in. “What on earth could his hand tell you now that it didn’t before?”

“Not his hand,” House corrected, holding said hand up a little more. “Fingernails. Doesn’t show in every case, but boy does it help prove my point.”

“We might know what Danny has,” Chase spoke up, glancing between the two older men quickly before focusing on their patient. “Or at least, part of it. It’s an infection, specifically in the heart, called Endocarditis.”

Danny kept looking at each of the doctors quickly, eyes narrowed a little as he tried to process the words. They’d had quick theories before, he knew, but for whatever reason this one sounded confident. He glanced at Masters, but the man seemed about as taken aback as he was, which was different.

“What’s that mean?” he asked, and House looked satisfied as he stepped back.

“Pretty straightforward, actually, which is ironic given everything else about you.” House went to lean against the wall, flipping his cane up to examine the rubber tip. “That incision on your chest doesn’t heal, bacteria gets in the bloodstream. It gets shuffled around and catches in the heart valves, starts building up into little vegetations. If they start breaking off and taking trips, some can get stuck in some important places, cause fun things like strokes.” He paused long enough to make a vague gesture toward his patient. “Aches, confusion, blood in the urine, all fairly vague, but they all fit.”

“So what was with the…” Danny waved his hand vaguely, trying to look it over somewhat casually. “What was with my hand?”

“Splinter hemorrhages,” House said. “Little bits of the bacteria messing with the blood vessels. See those red streaks?” Danny glanced down at his nails, eyes narrowing even further as he wondered why he hadn’t actually noticed them beforehand. “Not supposed to be there. They can show up in the eyes, too, or really anywhere on the skin. That’s slightly less vague and more evidence that we’re right.”

“It still doesn’t explain some of your other symptoms,” Foreman pointed out with a firm look toward his boss, “but it’s a start. We’re going to keep working on the rest and start working on finding the right antibiotic to treat this with.”

“Antibiotics?” Masters had managed to keep his expression fairly calm, but Danny could see his hands tight around the arm rests of the chairs. “Is that all it’s going to take?”

“If we’re lucky. It’s possible…” The man hesitated before giving a small shrug. “Depending on the progress of the infection, we might need surgery to repair the heart valves.”

“It varies from case to case,” Cameron said, stepping forward as if she’d immediately spotted Danny’s flinching back. “We’ll need a few tests to decide what to do, but the fact that we have a diagnosis at all is extremely important.”

Danny knew that if he actually had a heartrate at the moment it would be spiking. _It’s a good thing,_ he tried reminding himself, _they know what to do, they know what’s wrong._ The word _surgery_ wouldn’t stop floating around in his head, though, and he shot a look at Masters who was staring a hole in the opposite wall.

The doctors seemed to be expecting some kind of response, but he couldn’t manage a coherent one. The silence was broken by the bottom of House’s cane hitting the floor as he straightened.

“We’ll get this thing treated,” he said. “Maybe that’ll help put the rest of the pieces together. And you,” he shot a look at Masters, “you’re off duty. Front desk called on our way here, his parents just checked in and they’ll be up in a few minutes. Things will probably get awkward, so I’ll let that hash out before bringing in the paperwork.”

He limped back out the door, Chase and Foreman following after only a short pause. Cameron lingered, glancing into the hall before stepping closer to the bed.

“I can stay. If you’d like a buffer.”

“No,” Masters finally spoke up, his voice just barely concealing the tension. “Thank you, but we’ll have some…private matters to discuss.”

Cameron considered them a few more moments before nodding and following the rest of her team out, the door sliding shut behind her. Danny had to force his hand to release the bed’s railing and forced out a slow breath. He tried ignoring the sudden chill that had rushed through him and kept his eyes on the ceiling.

“Are you going to do anything?” he asked, his voice inches away from cracking, and he heard Masters mirror his sigh.

“Not yet,” he muttered, “but we will see.”


End file.
